


The Dueling Club

by EveryDayBella



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Avengers Family, Bucky needs a hug, Bucky's Arm, Canon-Typical Violence, Deaf Clint Barton, Drunk Clint Barton, F/F, F/M, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Mostly Fluff, Mutual Pining, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Peggy Carter is a BAMF, Rumlow is a jerk, Steve and Bucky get in a fight, Steve is too freaking cute, because Rumlow is a dick, idiot boys are idiots, magic shields are awesome, talking is important in relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 13:46:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3571892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveryDayBella/pseuds/EveryDayBella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky Barnes has pined after the unavailable Steve Rogers for seven years. How can one last year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry change everything?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dueling Club

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MiriRainbowitz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiriRainbowitz/gifts).



> I had a blast writing this! It was so fun and I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> Please note, I did make a couple changes to the Hogwarts set up. Most of the of them are small and mostly unnoticeable. The biggest is that I added an eighth year just because I wanted to work with an older age. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Bucky Barnes hates Kings Cross station. It’s huge, carnivorous, and there’s nothing worse than walking through walls. It just feels weird. He’s been reaching Platform 9 ¾ for eight years now, and he still isn’t used to it.

Once he shakes off the jitters left over by the magic wall, he determinately pushes his trolley through the thick crowds of kids and parents giving hurried goodbyes and last minute instructions. Not long ago he would have been jealous standing on this platform alone, surrounded by happy families and tearful goodbyes. He’s gotten over those longings, but just one person to miss him would have been nice.

“Bucky!” He hears the scream and glances down the red train to see a girl, more woman now, with long red hair and a stunning smile. She’s leaning out an open window and waving him down. Bucky smiles, briefly pushing his own hair out of his face, and waves to her. She nods and slips back into the train.

It takes Bucky longer than he likes to push himself through the crowds of people toward the car his friend is on. He keeps his head down, avoiding anyones gaze and remaining a nondescript blur in the crowd. He stops himself from looking for blond hair and sky blue eyes. He’s promised himself that this year is going to be different. He can’t help himself though, just for a moment, as he’s climbing the steps up the train.

So much for different.

Bucky accepts the women's hug when he reaches her booth. “Hey, Nat.”

“Hey yourself.” Natasha’s sharp eyes take him in as he puts his luggage away. “Your hair is longer.”

“And your point is?” Bucky asks, taking the open seat next to Nat, and giving the blond sitting on Natasha’s other side a fist bump.

“You’re hiding again,” Natasha accuses. “Back me up, Clint.”

“I am not getting involved.” Clint smirks. “But I like the hair man, it’s sexy.”

“You’re a jackass,” Natasha accuses dryly.

“But you love me anyway.” Clint flashes his best puppy eyes at her, which earns him a small smile. As much as they are annoying sometimes, Bucky has missed his friends. As crazy and misadjusted they are, they’re the only people in the world who care about poor orphan Bucky.

“I’m serious, Bucky.” He only catches the end of his friend’s tirade, but it’s likely not anything he hasn’t heard before. “You can be sweet and charming when you want to be. You don’t have to keep hiding behind your hair, acting all mild and weak, and pinning after everything you can’t have.”

“Aw, Bucky, no.” Clint whines. “You are not still mooning over Steve Rogers, are you?”

Bucky blushes, unconsciously slinging the long ends of his hair to cover his face. The first time he saw Steve Rogers, he had been eleven and had somehow known that Steve was the person he’s supposed to spend the rest of his life with. Steve might have been skinny and sickly, but he was kind and helpful, even to the orphan muggle Slytherin boy who was out of place and lost.

Over the years, Bucky had developed an infatuation with Steve. Nothing dangerous or harmful. Just a crush. A crush that lasted for years. It hadn’t gone anywhere until the start of their fifth year when skinny little Steve had shown up two feet taller and ripped. Bucky had been fifteen, riddled with hormones, and his little crush was suddenly so much more. Bucky had always known he was bi, but it was the first time he was physically attracted to someone. Steve was popular, handsome, and not to mention, completely out of his league.

“How long have Steve and Peggy been together anyway?” Clint breaks through his musings. “Four or five years? Since before he was big and buff.”

That’s the other problem. By the time Bucky had worked up the courage to ask Steve out, he had been already taken. Peggy Carter was sweet and a total firecracker. She and Steve were the power couple of the school. Bucky is glad Steve is happy, but he can’t help longing for what he never got.

“It doesn’t matter.” Natasha wraps her arm around Bucky’s, leaning into his side with a sympathetic smile. “You can’t keep wasting your life longing for what you can’t have. You can’t keep hiding away just because of fucking Brock Rumlow and his gang of assholes. You are smart. You are handsome. Best of all, you’re talented. We’ve got one more year, then we can get out of this hell and become an Aurors.”

“Kicking ass. Taking names,” Clint mutters under his breath.

“Being generally awesome like we always have been.” Natasha grins.

“Okay, okay, fine.” Bucky shoves Natasha playfully, sparing a smile in appreciation. “I’ll try, okay? You don’t go from muggle rat to grand wizard overnight, but I will try. I’m not cutting my hair though. I like the length.”

“That’s not the only thing he likes the length of.” The three friends groan as a new voice joins their harmony. Darcy Lewis developed a habit for dirty jokes early and honed her skills well over the years. No one is exempt from her cutting remarks, including her friends.

Bucky flips her off as Darcy and her friend, Angie, take the bench on their other side. Clint, Darcy, and Angie take to trading the latest Hufflepuff gossip while Nat and Bucky listen with amused smiles and settle in for the long trip.

The five of them are stuffing their faces with sweets from the trolley when a new face joins them. Loki Laufeyson leans casually against the door jam, already in his black and green school robes, and a perfectly mischievous smile on his lips. “Did you hear the news?” he drawls slowly at Nat and Bucky.

“We’ve been here the whole time and we’re not exactly the most popular Slytherins in the school,” Natasha says slowly, starting at Loki with hard eyes. “Spill, Silver tongue.”

"Only because you asked so nicely." Loki winks flirtatiously and Clint leans in. "It seems there is a new Head of Slytherin House."

Bucky feels a shiver of dread seep down his spine as Darcy and Angie prick up their ears as well.

"What happened to Professor Schmidt?" Natasha asks suspiciously.

"Took a bad fall, or so I heard. One shouldn't believe everything you hear." Loki shrugs. "Professor Pierce has been given his job, if the rumour is to be believed."

Natasha growls low in her throat. Bucky feels like he’s going to be sick. Just when he had started looking up about the year, this happens. He sinks into his seat, trying to make himself as small as possible. Maybe if he could just transfigure himself into a mouse, he would live to see the spring.

“Who in their right mind would put Pierce in charge of anything?” Clint questions, glaring at the messenger, before turning to Nat. “You’re gonna have to start visiting me. I’m not stepping foot in the dungeons with him in charge.”

“Clint, shut the hell up.” Her voice sounds distant and muddled; like Bucky’s hearing it through water. Bucky hasn’t realized that he'd stopped breathing until Natasha’s rubbing his back and speaking calmly and evenly in his ear. “Bucky, come on, breathe. It’s gonna be okay. Fury’s still in charge and Pierce won’t cross him. He’ll keep a leash on Rumlow.”

Bucky breaths in shakely, unconsciously leaning into Natasha’s side. Getting a panic attack on the train is new record for Bucky. He’s usually at least made it to the first day of classes.

“That’s right.” Loki snaps his fingers like a sudden revelation had come to him. “Rumlow is Pierce’s little lap dog.”

“I’m gonna die,” Bucky states.

“You are not.” Natasha shakes him like it will knock some sense into her nervous friend. “You’re gonna be fine. Remember what I said, this year is going to be different.”

Bucky moans.

“Well, as amusing as this has all been, I must be going.” Loki flashes his biggest, most charming grin and reachs out for Darcy’s hand pressing, a kiss to the back it. “Farewell, sweet lady.”

Loki disappears as quickly as he came. Bucky finds amusement in the way Darcy’s cheeks turned bright red.

“I think he likes you,” Angie teases.

“Oh, shut up.” Darcy smiles, exposing two big dimples that Bucky has only seen once or twice. If Bucky hadn’t known any better, he would have thought that Darcy really likes the swarmy bad boy.

“Well, at least some peoples lives are looking up,” Bucky mutters under his breath.

Natasha pats his knee, but he still notices the way her lips are pinched, and she’s clinging to Clint’s hand. “It’s still gonna be fine. This will end up being nothing. You’ll see.”

Bucky really wishes he can believe her.

* * *

Later that night, after the sorting had taken place, announcements have been made, and everyone is chowing down on a feast fit for kings, Bucky catches sight of Rumlow.

Brock Rumlow is in the same year as he and made the last seven years of Bucky’s life a living hell. Rumlow is a born bully, mean, callous, and insensitive. He knows exactly where to cut to make him bleed. Bucky does everything he can to keep as far away from Rumlow as possible. Now that Professor Pierce has been announced as Professor Schmidt's replacement, Bucky is going to keep an even wider distance.

Rumlow, from where he’s sitting toward the front of the table, looks positively gleeful. His dark eyes studying and malicious when he catches Bucky watching him. He leers, arching an eyebrow questionably, and goes so far as to wink. Bucky swallows thickly, suddenly frozen, his mind blank, palms sweating.

Terror is beginning to fuel an adrenaline rush in his system when Natasha sits up straighter next to him, cutting off his view of Rumlow. He doesn't have to see her face to know that she’s glaring at the big bully. Bucky reaches out, squeezes her hand in thanks, before looking down at the table and relearning how to breath.

“Ignore him.” Natasha hissed, turning away from the front table and back toward him. “He’s a jackass, and Clint and I aren't going to let anything happen to you. Besides, he’s not going to kill you.”

“When I was eight.” Bucky says, moving corned beef and cabbage around his plate without an appetite. “There was a sixteen year old kid and we found him in the tub. His head was in two feet of water and he wasn’t breathing. Some other kids held him down to scare him, but they held him too long. He was dead. Rumlow might not mean to, but it’ll be an accident.”

“Then don’t let it.” Natasha rubs his back, feeling the way he’s shaking underneath his robes. “You’re stronger than him and better with magic. You can take him any day of the week.”

Bucky humphs noncommittally. Natasha is great, she really is, but she has a home. She has stability, she has a boyfriend who loves her, and she’s always known what she wanted out of life. Bucky learned from a very young age that keeping your head down is the best way to stay undetected. Keeping himself separate is just a way to not get hurt. It doesn't mean he likes it, but it’s what he knows. Natasha has been nudging him a different way for years now, and he wants to, but he wants not to get hurt more.

Natasha smiles sadly and leans her head against his shoulder, offering the comfort that she’s comfortable giving and him receiving.

She’s pushed away by Clint, who kneeling on the floor behind them with an excited grin. “Look at the Gryffindor table.”

Bucky and Natasha study the line of students eating their dinner. Natasha turns her annoyed eyes to Clint’s bright face. “There is only a hundred people sitting there. You want to be more specific?”

“Down at the far end, sitting by the fireplace, three of them.”

Bucky finds what Clint is angling for, if only because his heart is suddenly in his throat. Steve Rogers is laughing his friends, Sam and Thor, if Bucky remembers their names right. Steve’s pale skin is lit by the golden candle light, his blond hair falling over his forehead, blue eyes sparkling with mirth and happiness. Bucky sighs deeply as Steve licks his red, kissable lips.

“Man, you really do have it bad.” Clint snickers, breaking Bucky out of his daze.

Bucky shoves his shoulder and rolls his eyes. “Fuck you.”

“What’s your point?” Natasha rolls her eyes at both of them.

“Look at who he’s sitting with.”

Natasha takes a quick glance and then shrugs. “That’s Sam Wilson and Thor Odinson. They’re always together. Your point?”

“Who’s missing?” Clint teases.

Bucky looks back, trying to think about all the times he’s seen Steve. He’s usually got a crowd of his friends around him. Tony Stark. Jane Foster. Bruce Banner. Darcy and Angie hang out with him sometimes.

Then it dawns on him. “Where’s Peggy Carter?”

Clint grins like the hawk that’s caught a mouse. “Look at the other end of the table.”

“She’s not sitting with Steve.” Even Natasha sounds a little shocked.

“Rumour is they broke up over the summer.” Clint explains, and Bucky wonders how Hufflepuff’s always hear rumours first. “They're still friends, but very much not together. They didn’t even share a compartment on the train ride.”

“They were always attached at the hide.” Natasha musses and then a slow, excited smile spreads across her face. “Bucky, this is your chance. He’s single!”

“Oh, no. No way. Natasha no.” Bucky can see her beginning to plan some crazy scheme and he doesn’t need it. “I’m not going to be his rebound. He doesn’t need you trying to set him up like probably every girl in this room is trying to do. Just leave him alone.”

Natasha opens her mouth to argue, to lay out her case for why Steve and Bucky should be together. Clint shakes his head at her and she sighs. “Fine, but you would be happy, James Buchanan Barnes.”

Against his wishes, Natasha’s words stick with him.

* * *

The Slytherin common rooms are dark and ominous. Bucky has never liked them. It’s one of the many reasons that he’s always wondered why the Sorting Hat sentenced him to this hell. The chairs and couches are uncomfortable, the lighting oppressively dim, and the company down right cold. Bucky has never fit in here. He’s not mean, he’s not malicious, he would rather just do his own thing and not give a damn about anyone else. Slytherin House has a reputation for being bullies to the other houses, but they’re almost worse to their own and Bucky is usually the odd one out.

In the first couple weeks of classes, however, things go better than he expected them to. For one, he’s managed to avoid the eye of Brock Rumlow. There’s been glances and glares, but nothing more. Bucky doesn’t know if he’s just been better at being nonexistent, or if Natasha has been more visible, but either way, he hasn’t gotten beat up yet. That he can be thankful for.

For another, he’s been able to keep on top of his grades. Transfiguration is his favorite class and he normally gets high marks there, but even his worst, potions, has been better than any of his past years. It’s enough to get him in high spirits and he’s smiling when he sinks in a large wingback chair next to Natasha and Clint in the Slytherin common room toward the end of their second month.

“What’s this? Moody and Grumpy is smiling? Natasha, pinch me, I think I might be dying.” Clint is sprawled across a couch, his feet in Nat’s lap, and flying seven little paper birds with his wand. His yellow trimmed uniform is standing out in the gloomy room and he gets sidelong glares from some of the other students, but no one dares go up against Romanoff.

“Har. Har. Har.” Bucky flips Clint off. It’s been a long week and he’s looking forward to the weekend. “How do you even get in here anyway?”

“Air vents.”

“It’s a castle. There aren’t any air vents.”

Clint just chuckles and winks like he’s got a secret.

Natasha closes her school book with a thud and turns her sharp, calculating eyes on Bucky. “You’re coming tonight, right?”

Bucky groans, sinking deeper into his chair. There was a new extra curricular activity this year and the whole school is a buzz about it. The Dueling Club’s first meeting would be tonight, and Natasha has been trying to get him to go ever since it had been announced two weeks before. The practical part of Bucky told him that he is swamped already and he doesn’t have time for what is basically a sport that would get him no grade. It’s the same reason he doesn’t play Quidditch.

The other part of him knows that this is his last shot to just let loose and have some fun. This is his last year at Hogwarts. After this, if he can keep his grades up, he will be off to the Auror training program and fighting dark wizards. He won’t have time to do stupid things like duel with his classmates.

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Well, you better hurry up.” Nat nimbly snatched one of Clint’s birds out of the air. “Come with us. It won’t be that bad and it might help your self-esteem. You’d be pretty great at it, you know.”

Bucky supposes she might be right. He is really good at Transfiguration and more than decent at Charms. He’s got good aim and is fast thinking. If it’s something he’s good at, then maybe Natasha is right, and he’ll find a little confidence in himself.

Then, of course, Clint has to open his big mouth. “You never know, Steve will probably be there.”

Bucky throws a quill sitting on the table next to him at Clint, scattering the paper birds in a dozen directions. Natasha even glares and slaps his chest while scolding at him.

It hadn’t taken long for the rest of the school to learn that its golden couple had broken up. While Steve, Peggy, and their group of friends still hung out, Steve and Peggy would always remain as far away from each other as possible. The rumour is that they are still friends and the split had been mutual.

Clint has taken to teasing Bucky at every turn, trying to get the brunette to ask the blond out. Bucky has thought about it, but the idea of him, the Slytherin low-on-ever-totem-pole outcast, asking Steve Rogers, the Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team and most popular guy in school, out made him laugh or sick...or both.

“Clint Barton, you jackass!” Natasha hisses beating Clint’s shoulder with her book hard enough to leave a bruise. “Keep your mouth shut for once in your life, would you? You're still going with us, Barnes.”

Bucky figures with the determined look Natasha gives him, he doesn’t have a choice anymore.

* * *

Most of the the upper years have filed into the Great Hall after dinner for the Dueling Club. Bucky and Natasha sit at the Hufflepuff table, Nat in Clint’s lap with Darcy and Angie sitting across from them. Bucky glances up at the magic roof, tonight its a deep blue dotted with tiny, silvery pinpoints, before focusing back on the conversation around on him.

“I heard they might do it in teams.” Angie says. “And make them mixed between different houses, too.”

“Oh, they’re definitely doing in it teams.” Natasha assures, full of confidence and bravado.

“How do you know?” Bucky asks, suspiciously.

“You know I have my ways, Bucky.”

“I don’t care.” Darcy isn’t looking at them, but at the Slytherin table. “Where do I sign up to be paired with tall, dark, and skinny over there?”

Finding Loki is easy because he commands the attention of anyone close to him. Bucky snorts. “You know he flirts with everyone, right?”

“I don’t care.” Darcy grins and it’s just as mischievous as the ones Bucky has seen Loki wear. “I’m just saying I wouldn’t mind his Silver Tongue near mine, if you get my drift.”

“You know, if you want, I could introduce you.” Natasha offers, playing matchmaker because she likes to meddle.

Darcy’s eyes light up, but before she can accept the offer, she’s interrupted by the arrival of Professor Coulson and Professor Zola. Professor Coulson is Head of Gryffindor House and nice enough, if a little strict. Zola is Head of Ravenclaw and far too close to Pierce for Bucky’s liking. If he hadn’t been sitting next to Natasha, Bucky might have made a run for it.

Thankfully, Professor Coulson seems to be the leading voice. “Welcome, everyone. This how the Club is going work. You will be split into teams of two from opposite Houses. You will practice together in your own free time. Once a week, you will meet here with everyone else and your team will duel with the others under mine and Professor Zola’s instructions, as well as the others. At the end of the year, we will have a tournament. The winners will earn points for their Houses and a trophy. Now, please listen closely for your name and meet up with your partners.”

Bucky feels his palms become slick. He hasn’t planned on having to do this with a partner. He’s hoping that he gets Clint, Darcy, or Angie.

“Banner and Wilson.”

“Carter and Martili.”

“Odinson and Laufeyson.”

“Drat.” Darcy hissed.

“Rumlow and Modoc.”

Bucky felt a dread drip down his shoulder. “That’s just asking for trouble,” Clint whispers.

“Stark and Potts.”

“Romanoff and Barton.”

“How did you do it?” Bucky asks dryly, not even surprised.

“A smart wizard doesn’t give away her secrets.” Natasha winks and snuggles deeper into Clint’s embrace.

“Lewis and Foster.”

“New plan.” Darcy climbs excitedly to her feet. “Jane is dating Thor and Thor is on a team with Loki. Yes! I can make this work.”

“Barnes and Rogers.”

Bucky doesn’t think he hears it right.

Bucky prays he didn’t hear it right.

Richards is close to Rogers, right?

Clint’s jaw is on the floor. Darcy and Angie know enough to look shocked. Natasha’s face is curiously blank, but it’s enough that Bucky knows, he heard it right.

“What did you do?” Bucky hissed angrily at Natasha, a curl of fear, dread, nervousness, and a tinge of excitement twisting in his stomach.

“I swear, Bucky, I didn’t do anything.” Her voice is calm, even, and he knows she’s telling the truth. That doesn’t make him any less angry at whoever’s cruel joke this is. “It has to be fate.”

Bucky has never felt the blood drain from his face quite like this. His hands are trembling, mind racing, the world spinning. Fate. Fate is just cruel.

He doesn’t hear Professor Coulson finish his list. He doesn’t feel Natasha and Clint pull him to his feet and push him through the crowd. He doesn’t really know anything until Nat is pulling his broad chin down to look at her face.

“He is right over there, looking for you. You are going to go over there, introduce yourself, and act like the cocky, smooth, motherfucker I know you can be. Capisce?”

Bucky nods dumbly. He doesn’t feel cocky, or smooth, or anything else. He can’t do this. He has had a crush from afar and that’s fine. That’s okay. That keeps him from making an ass of himself, or reaching too far out of his league.

Clint shoves him, and Bucky forces himself to move, to shallow down his moves, act normal. He can do it for just a hour or two. He’s only had a crush on Steve Rogers for seven years. That isn’t so bad, was it?

Bucky approaches slowly, clearing his throat a couple times. He’s just about where he can breathe and think without falling into a haze of hormones when Steve spots him and smiles. It’s a smile to end all smiles. Like they’re old friends even though they’ve spoken maybe ten words to each other. Bucky goes weak in the knees and he has to remember what words even are.

“Hey, Bucky, right?” Steve says, all earnest eyes and blond hair flopping on his forehead. “I’m really excited about this. I mean, it’s something new at least.”

Bucky’s hair is curtaining part of his face, and his shoulders are hunched defensively, but he manages to smile gently. “It’s better than doing Professor Strange’s charms homework.”

“Or Professor Happy’s herbology.” Steve shivers a little in distress. “For the life of me, I can’t grasp what’s so important about plants. Is it supposed to be important?”

Steve looked so adorably confused that it takes everything in Bucky not to grin dopely. “I can handle herbology. It’s potions I struggle with.”

“Potions is great. Hey, I tell you what, I’ll help you with potions, you help me with herbology, and with any luck, we’ll be able to graduate.”

If Bucky blushes, well, at least it’s hidden by his hair.

They don’t have time to talk much. The professors are demanding their attention. That’s good. The less Bucky can talk and blush, the less chance he has to embarrass himself further. By some miracle, he’s even proving himself competent with his wand easily executing the charms and spells the professors ask them to do. When they’re instructed to try their first duel with their partner, Bucky even manages to surprise Steve with his skill. Bucky wonders if it’ possible to get addicted to someone’s smile because he’s in danger of doing so if he’s aw I going to send more time around Steve.

Everything’s going good and Bucky even feels himself loosening up for a change, teasing Steve lightly and smiling at the antics of the others around them when he’s thrown another curve ball. Professor Coulson wants to show how the teams will duel. Bucky’s barely paying attention when the teacher calls, “Rogers, Barnes, up here please.”

Bucky freezes again, this time in stage fright. Steve studies him with wide, worried blue eyes and leans in. “I can get Professor Coulson to call on someone else, if you want?”

Bucky shake his head, embarrassment staining his cheeks again. If he’s going to be saddled with Steve all year, he’s going to make sure that Steve isn’t handicapped by him. He can do this. It’s as easy as approaching the front of the room and forgetting that everyone is even there. Which is to say, not easy at all.

One foot in front of the other. Come on. You can do this.

Steve shares a sweet, encouraging smile and Bucky feels a different set of butterflies take over his stomach. These are easier to deal with at least and his feet no longer feel like they’ve been filled with lead.

Bucky will swear for the rest of his life that Steve and Bucky are almost to the front before Zola grins maliciously and calls, “Rumlow and Modoc.”

Bucky frantically seeks out Natasha and Clint in the sea of faces, but it’s too late. He and Steve are positioned across from the Ravenclaw and the Slytherin. Bucky groans in defeat, not the least bit surprised that Rumlow is directly across from him, a sneer on his face.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Steve whispers, while Coulson talks to the students. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

It takes Bucky until that moment, with Steve leaning down so that he can be heard, to realize how tall the blond is. The top of Bucky’s head barely clears his wide shoulders. Bucky isn’t short either, but finds that he loves having to look up at those eyes. Bucky purposely ignores that they’re close. Bucky could feel his warmth and instead focuses on how nice it is not to be alone against his bully.

“Rumlow and I just have a history is all.”

Steve gives him a sceptical look and squares his shoulders, standing up straight and tall. It doesn’t make Bucky feel any smaller. Somehow it makes him feel taller, too.

“Draw your wands.” Professor Coulson orders. The four students reach into their robes pulling the wood sticks out. Bucky’s a little surprised, his silver painted wand has never felt more comfortable in his hand. He tries not to think about what that might mean.

Steve and Bucky follow the instructions they've already been taught, bowing to their opponents and waiting for their teachers to give them the go ahead. Zola barely orders the start before Modoc is shooting a beam of energy at Steve, and Rumlow, with a malicious grin, summons the specter of a giant spider to stand between him and Bucky. With a shout, Steve summons a circular shield to bounce the energy back at Modoc, who barely dodges in time. Bucky scatters the spider ghost with a flick of his wand.

The two pairs fight for several minutes, evenly matched, neither quite able to find the advantage. Steve is clearly defeating Modoc, who isn't able to keep up with the speed of his charms. Rumlow and Bucky aren’t faring as well. They each manage to land shots and with every one Bucky gets, Rumlow gets madder.

It was bound to happen, Bucky supposses. The universe can’t be too good to him after all. Steve has just managed to take Modoc out and is turning to help Bucky when Rumlow uses a tripping charm to knock Bucky off his feet. He lands heavily, but is scrambling to his knees when the second curse hits him. It’s a confusion charm and though Steve sees it coming, he can’t swing his magic shield around to block the blow. Bucky’s eyes go unfocused and any fight leaves him. He sinks back down to the floor, and by the time Steve joins him, he’s giggling uncontrollably.

“How strong was that spell you hit him with?” Steve yells at Rumlow. Bucky’s hears it, but it doesn’t mean anything. Steve is close, fingers touching his face, tilting his head, blue eyes concerned. Why are they concerned? Steve shouldn’t be concerned. He’s too pretty for that.

“Thanks for that, pal. You’re not so bad yourself.” Steve grins and Bucky could go on for hours about his lips. They’re so pink, kissable. Bucky’s wanted to kiss Steve for years and he’s so close anyway. Why can’t he? That wouldn’t be so bad, right?

Bucky closes his eyes and leans forward uncertainly, but manages to find his mark. He always did have good aim and, oh god, Bucky has alway been right, Steve is sweet as a peach. Warm and soft. Bucky wants more, more, more.

Awareness jolts through his body with the force of a tsunami. He scrambles away, more than aware that he was just kissing Steve Rogers in front of the whole school. The one thing he’s wanted more than anything and he has to go acting like an idiot after getting hit with a confusion charm. He’s briefly aware of tittering laughter, of Rumlow’s smirking grin. Bucky burns hot and cold, then angry and ashamed. Steve’s eyes are wide, huge, blown, and horrified.

Bucky scrambles to his feet and runs.

It’s the only thing he knows to do.

Just run.

* * *

Bucky has becomes pretty good at avoiding everyone. He spends no time more than what it takes to walk through in the Slytherin common rooms. He doesn’t sleep in the dorm. In the big castle, it’s easy to find abandoned rooms to borrow for a night or two. He shows up late for meals and only stays long enough to scarf down some food before he’s off again. He hides in corners and dark shadows. He misses the first Quidditch game of the season. He’s good at simply being a ghost.

The only thing he can’t avoid is classes, and that’s where Nat always tries to catch him. She’ll claim the seat next to him, Clint behind her in classes they share with the Hufflepuffs, and talk. It starts out with her trying to reassure him that everything is okay, that Steve isn’t even mad at him. She tells Bucky that he’d tried to rip Rumlow a new one later that night, and he’d really like to talk to Bucky. When it becomes clear he’s going to keep ignoring her, she got mad, calling him a pussy, spoiled brat, and “really Bucky, your fucking pride can’t be that wounded.” After a week, she just talks about everything and nothing. Against his will, it’s the highlight of his day because it’s the one time he doesn’t feel so alone.

This went on for a week and a half before the pattern break. It’s bound to happen after all. Rumlow had embarrassed Bucky, but he hadn’t gotten to enjoy his victory either. Bucky’s robbed him of that.

Bucky is leaving the Great Hall late one night, heading up the stairs toward his nightly hiding place. The hallways are barely lit, there’s no one up there, and it isn’t on any of the main routes to any of the dormitories. Bucky figures he’s safe for the night and lets his guard down. He shouldn’t have done that.

His back is hitting a hard stone wall before he’s aware he has even been pushed. He’s surrounded by sneering, jeering faces, and the first one he recognizes is Rumlow’s.

“You put on a good show, pretty boy.” Rumlow leers and Bucky struggles to keep his chin up and not let the fear bubbling in his gut own him. “Kissing Rogers. That was even better than I thought it would be.”

The gang laughs and Bucky pushes himself harder against the stone wall while looking for any chance to escape. In an abandoned corridor of the castle, there’s little chance of a surprise rescue. He’s up a creek without paddle. He’s screwed. He’s totally fucked.

“I always knew you were little crazy, Bucky Ducky, but lusting after Rogers? Who would have thought you were no better than those lower year baby girls who follow him around all the time.”

Something other than fear boils in Bucky’s stomach. It’s a fierce urge to defend Steve and its going to get him in even worse trouble. No doubt about it. “Like you would know anything good, Rumlow. You’re too busy picking on people to cover up how small your dick is.”

The air rushes out of his lungs as Rumlow’s big fist hits his stomach. Bucky crumples to his knees, coughing, and trying to breath through the uncomfortable hollowness in his chest. Then there’s a hand pulling painfully on his hair, arching his neck back so he’s forced to look up at Rumlow.

“Can’t have you growing a spine, can we?” His other hand smacks into Bucky’s face, splitting his lip, and sinking his teeth into the inside of his cheek. Bucky spits out blood and tries to climb back to his feet before a hard boot meets his stomach, knocking him back down.

Bucky can’t keep up with the blows after Rumlow lets his pals join in. Only each new blossom of pain and agony makes it harder to pull in breath. Bucky’s taken beatings before, but nothing like this. This one feels different, violence and anger seething in the air, crackling in each fist and kick that Bucky gets. Bucky’s dazed, gives up on regaining his feet. He’s curled into a ball, praying either for them to stop or him to pass out.

He really doesn't care which at this point.

There’s a new shout, but Bucky can’t make it out through the ringing in his ears. The blows stop, and Rumlow is thrown back like he weighs nothing. Bucky looks up to find he’s separated from the gang by a transparent silver shield, one that he recognizes in an instant.

Steve is on the other side, shoving Rumlow back and yelling something. Bucky’s head feels like it weighs ninety pounds and he lets it drop back to the ground, eyes drifting close with it.

He loses track of time, he thinks he might have passed out for a moment, but then hands are on him again, soft and big, gently pushing hair out of his face and tracing the curve of his cheek. “Bucky? Oh god.” Steve moans, and it’s a bad sound. Steve shouldn’t be upset, especially not about him. “Come on, Bucky, open your eyes for me. That’s it. Come on. It’s gonna be okay.”

Bucky can only open one eye and then only fair enough that he can make out Steve’s blurry face, lips stretched into what’s supposed to be a reassuring smile, but it’s falling far short of the mark. “I had ‘em on the ropes,” Bucky says around a mouthful of blood.

“I know you did.” Steve laughs shakely. “Can you get up? I gotta get you to the hospital wing.”

It takes fifteen minutes for Steve and Bucky to hobble forward until they reach a more lived in section of the castle. Someone grabs Bucky’s other side, taking the rest of his weight and nearly tows him up to the hospital wing. He’s placed on to a bed, beaten, bruised and bloody while the nurse tuts and the headmaster and other professors filter in. Bucky can’t keep track of everything, but he’s aware of Steve sitting on the side of his bed and a steady pressure and warmth on the palm of his hands.

Something soft brushes his forehead and he tries to force his eyes to open, to figure out who’s touching him, but he can’t. There’s a soft hushing sound, gentle and sweet like a spring rain. “I gotta go with the professors, but someone has gone to get your friends, okay?”

“Steve.” Bucky mumbles, the words thick and heavy on his tongue.

“Yeah, pal. You’re gonna be okay, alright? Just listen to the nurses. I’ll see you later.”

The pressure and warmth are gone from his hand and Bucky misses it a lot.

By the time Nat and Clint rush in, he’s sitting up at least. That’s not saying much. He’s not wearing a shirt and the dark, nasty purple and blue bruises stand out starkly against his pale skin. One eye is black and blue, swollen shut, and the other isn’t much better. His nose is broken, shadows of future bruises on his cheeks, and his bottom lip is split.

Natasha gives a wordless cry of despair before throwing her arms around Bucky’s neck. As quickly as she’s there, she’s punching his shoulder. “What the hell have you been thinking?”

“I’m sorry.” Bucky tells her, still fuzzy around the edges, but trying to focus because her and Clint are important, and he’s been a dick. “I just wanted to be alone and not bother anyone, but I screwed up.”

You think? Clint’s fingers are flying, broadcasting how agitated he really is. It’s a good thing Bucky learned ASL early in their friendship.

“Where are your aids?” he asks, and blames the concussion for asking the most stupid, least important question he can think of.

Clint throws his hands up in the air, a look of total and complete disbelief on his on face. Are you fucking kidding me? You look like my mom’s meatloaf and you want to know where my fucking hearing aids are? For your information, I was halfway asleep when I got woken up by someone telling me that Steve had stopped Rumlow from killing your ass. What the fuck, Bucky?

Bucky hangs his head, planning to hide his shame behind his hair. Natasha’s gentle fingers tuck a strand behind his ear, making him look at them. “What Clint is indelicately trying to say is that we’ve been worried about you and afraid this would happen. You have to know that we don’t think any less of you because of what happened at the club? It wasn’t your fault. Steve even tried to get Rumlow punished that night, and he really wants to talk to you, but you shut us all out.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice is groggy and thick. Natasha starts translating for Clint just in case he has trouble reading Bucky’s swollen lips. “I just thought that maybe if I could separate myself from everyone, it would hurt less. It was stupid.”

“It was.” Natasha agrees, never one to coddle him. She does wrap an arm gently around his shoulders. “But I love your stupid ass anyway. So does Clint. Don’t you, Clint?”

Sometimes. Clint shrugs, face hard, clearly still annoyed. But you did make her cry.

“Clint!” Natasha hisses as Bucky turns his horrified eyes on her. “Once and it wasn’t really crying. It was a couple of tears, because you were being a jackass.”

Bucky doesn’t know what to say, so he just pulls her into a hug. Clint squeezes his shoulder, and he knows he’s forgiven.

Natasha and Clint spend the night in the hospital bed with Bucky. Natasha curls up next to him with Clint sleeping at their feet. Bucky’s glad for his friends presence. He missed them. Even if they are strange and clingy sometimes.

“Hey, Bucky,” Natasha whispers just as Bucky’s about the fall asleep. He grunts enthusiastically in reply. “You should talk to Steve when you get the chance. He’s got something he needs to tell you.”

Bucky can’t remember if he replies or not.

* * *

He has to stay in the hospital ward for three more days. Between the concussion and three fractured ribs, they want to keep an eye on him. Magic can heal things up much faster than normal, but there’s still reason to worry. Bucky’s glad he doesn’t have to see the rest of the student population.

Clint and Natasha spend every moment they have with Bucky and bring him homework. Darcy and Angie stop by with Thor and Jane in tow. Jane, it seems, has taken instant liking to Darcy who’s still angling for a hook up with Loki. Natasha keeps offering to introduce them, but apparently that’s too easy. Thor’s a loud character with a quick laugh and fits into their little group like he belongs there.

After three nights, he’s cleared to return to the Slytherin dorms. Bucky handles the new stares with good grace and stays close to Natasha as usual. At least there’s no Rumlow. It has been decided that he and Bucky shouldn’t share a dorm. Rumlow had been sent to stay in a special dorm room close to the professors with a very strict curfew.

At least something good had come from this mess.

By the time he goes back to classes, most of the bruising has gone down on his face. His lip is still a bit puffy and his right eye cast in a dark shadow, but everything else is fine. He gets some stares, but Natasha glares back and they quickly look away.

There first class with the Gryffindors is Transfiguration. Bucky tries not to stare at Steve, who sits close to the front next to Sam Wilson. Bucky wants to go up to him and thank him for everything, and apologize for the kiss, but he just freezes in place. Natasha sighs dramatically, but doesn’t say anything.

He’s packing his bag to head to the next class when one of those paper birds Clint likes to make lands on the desk. He looks around to find who sent it. When he doesn’t see anyone, he unfolds the paper and reads the note.

****  
  


Hey Pal,

Glad to see you're up and at ‘em again. You kinda had me worried there.

I was gonna practice for the dueling club tonight. Thought you might like to join me, since you are still my partner. The empty classroom just passed Professor Coulson’s office on the fifth floor.

Steve

Bucky swallows deeply and jumps when Natasha speaks from over his shoulder. “You really should go. You need to talk to him.”

Bucky pointedly ignores her, shoves the note in his bag, and leaves the classroom.

* * *

“The fuck are you doing?” Bucky mutters to himself as he paces outside the fifth floor hallway that leads to Professor Coulson’s office. He hadn’t been planning on going. Yes, he needs to thank Steve for saving his life, but he doesn’t really want to be around him either. He’s still embarrassed about the way he’d kissed him when he’d been hit with the confusion charm. Bucky can’t get over the way Steve’s lips felt pressed against his, his taste, and the smell of him. Bucky can’t look at him without blushing.

Then, during dinner, Bucky caught sight of him, smiling, joking with his friends, and damn near glowing under the candle light. He was beautiful, and Bucky was caught staring. All it takes is Steve turning that bright smile on him and waving for Bucky to want to be brave.

He swallows thickly, still muttering to himself, and approaches the room Steve had mentioned in his note. The door is open and Bucky takes a moment to watch. Steve is practicing with that shield charm Bucky has seen him use several times. He’s never seen anything like it. The circle was transparent and ghostly. It doesn’t look like it will block anything, yet he’d seen it deflect Modoc’s spell, and it had protected Bucky from physical harm as well.

“Where did you learn that?” Bucky asks out loud without even realizing it. Steve turns toward him with an excited smile and Bucky blushes, trying to hide behind his hair again. “It’s just, um, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“It’s a family secret.” Steve winks conspiratorially. “I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

“That would probably be a waste, since you’ve already saved me once.” Bucky blushes, wondering were his verbal filter goes when he’s around Steve. “Um, thanks for that, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it.” Steve waves his wand and the shield disappears. “Anyone would have done the same.”

Bucky hums noncommittally. Steve’s blue eyes narrow for a second before his expression turns friendly and open once again. “I'm really glad you're okay.”

“Thanks.” Bucky whispers, wishing he has something smooth to say, maybe something to make Steve laugh.

“So, um, I thought maybe we could practice charms tonight?” Steve cards his hands through his hair nervously, pulling lightly on the ends. Bucky has to suppress the urge to do that himself. Steve’s hair always looks so soft and thick. “Than maybe you can show some of that tricky transfiguration stuff you do?”

“Okay.” Bucky’s fully aware that Steve is playing up both their strengths tonight, and that’s okay. It puts them on an even footing. Bucky steps fully into the room and tries not make an idiot out of himself.

It goes really well. Steve and Bucky work well with each other, naturally covering each other’s blind spots and instinctively knowing what the other needs. Soon Bucky’s loosened up enough that he’s able to tease Steve like he does Nat and Clint. He’s always careful to make sure he doesn’t say too much though. He doesn’t want to ruin the fragile camaraderie, even if the only thing he can think of is how nice it would be to lean over and press his lips to Steve’s and kiss the smirk off his face.

After a couple of hours, they’re both stretched out next to each on the floor, backs against the wall, gasping for breath.

“Man, you’re good,” Steve leans his head back, neck arching as his eyes close for a moment. Bucky swallows thickly longing to press his tongue to the pounding pulse point and forces himself to look away. “How did you hide it for so long? Seriously, you’re great at this.”

Bucky flushes under Steve’s praise. “It just never came up, I guess.”

“You shouldn’t hide it so much. I mean, I’ve watched you in classes for years and you’ve always done well, but that doesn’t show half of what you’re capable of.”

Bucky shrugs. “I find it’s easier to keep a low profile. What do you mean you've watched me?”

The prettiest pink blush creeps up Steve’s cheeks. “I um, yeah? Nothing creepy or anything. It’s just you're talented, so I wanted to watch what you did andIthinkyou’rekindahot.”

The last bit tumbles out of Steve’s in one breath. Bucky thinks he hears it wrong, but as Steve’s pink blush turns red, Bucky’s knows he didn’t. He still doesn’t dare hope. “You think I’m hot?”

“Yeah.” Steve smiles, open and genuine. The butterflies are back in Bucky’s stomach in an instant. “I mean, you’re all big and muscled. When I was smaller, I kinda wanted to cling to your shoulders. You’re handsome, and you’ve got just the most expressive eyes. I kinda love your hair too. It’s sexy.”

Bucky gasps, knowing he needs to say something. His brain is fried beyond Steve thinks I’m hot. Steve’s thinks I’m hot. Steve fucking Rogers thinks I’m hot.

“Natasha hates my hair.” Bucky fights the urge bury his head in his hands. Of all the fucking things he should have said, that’s what left his mouth.

“Well Natasha is wrong. She likes Clint, so its not saying much.”

“Clint’s kinda great, and don’t go telling Natasha she’s wrong if you want to remain a man.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Steve smiles at him, all sweet, open, and charming. Bucky wonders if he can be brave twice in a night. He really wants to and sitting in the shadows, close enough that their sides are brushing, he thinks he might be able to pull it off.

“Steve, um, I know you only just broke up with Peggy and all but, um, would you like to go on a date, with me?” Bucky manages to start strong, but the last words get wringed out of him in a squeak.

“I’d love to.” Bucky decides that the best three words in the english language. “Hogsmeade, this weekend?”

Bucky nods and laughs. He hasn’t felt this light in years.

* * *

By the time Saturday rolls around, Bucky is a nervous wreck. Clint and Nat tease him relentlessly for acting like a girl over the number of times he's redone his hair. Up, down, half up, he even tries a braid, or Clint does. He's surprisingly good at doing hair. Bucky finally settles for having it down, remembering that Steve had said he'd liked his hair.

Natasha and Clint promise to be in Hogsmeade in case Bucky needs them. He supposes he can forgive them then.

That doesn't keep Bucky's palms from sweating, or from nervously pulling on his hair while he waits for Steve in the Great Hall. The longer it takes, the more he thinks Steve regrets his decision. Maybe he's not coming. What had Bucky been thinking asking him out? Clearly Steve’s just pitied him.

Then Steve is sauntering down the big staircase, face erupting into that big sunlike grin when he sees Bucky waiting. Bucky, for his part, can breath easy now. He can't help being a bit tongue tied though. He's always thought that Steve was gorgeous, and this cloudy early autumn morning isn't any different. Steve always seems to glow from the goodness in him. It intimidates Bucky as much as it excites him.

"Hey." Bucky says in greeting and immediately wants to kick himself. How uncool could he possibly sound?

"Morning." Steve smiles like it doesn't matter. Bucky wonders how he never noticed those deep dimples. "Ready to go?"

"Um, yeah, sure." Bucky orders his tongue to stop getting tied into knots. He can be perfectly normal. He can go on a date and not act like a socially inept reject. What had Nat been telling him? Smile, look him in the eye, don't give one word answers. Great job so far.

"Come on." Steve grabs Bucky's arm, linking them together and pulling him out the big double doors. "I want to get to the sweet shop before it fills up."

Bucky's a little dumbfounded because he's touching Steve. He's close enough to feel the heat from his side and see the smile on his face. Bucky has to clear his throat and remember what he's supposed to be doing.

Talking. Right. He's a on date.

"What's your favorite there?" Bucky manages to keep his voice fairly even, though he can't keep from blushing. Of all the stupid questions he could have asked ...

"It’s totally stupid, but that new muggle stuff they've got now, the soft, fluffy, shit. Oh, what's it called?"

Bucky can't help giggling. Steve’s nose scrunched up when he's frustrated and it’s adorable. Bucky never giggles, and yet here he is sounding like a total idiot.

Steve smiles at him and that's enough to set off the butterflies in his stomach. "Shut up," Steve teases. "I'm always forgetful of that kinda shit."

"Well, I can't wait to see what this candy that you like so much is."

"What about you, what's your favorite?"

Bucky flushes, looking down at his shoes and the gravel path they're walking down. He's a poor kid. He hasn't gotten candy all that often because he just doesn't have the money. He doesn't like being reminded of that, especially when he's walking next to a member of one of the wealthiest wizard families.

Steve must notice the way Bucky stiffens up because he pulls Bucky a little closer to his side. "Sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“No. No. It’s, um, fine.” It’s really not, but Bucky is so far in over his head and he doesn’t want to back out now. He finds a little scrap of truth to use while not giving away the full affair. “Chocolate Frogs. I really like chocolate anything.”

“Good choice. Did you keep the cards? I had a full set, but I gave them to my nephew a couple years ago.”

“I had a couple, but I kept losing them. I always just wanted the chocolate.”

“Man after my own heart.” Steve winks, and Bucky tries to fight the urge blush again. Steve just keeps making him blush. It’s embarrassing which just makes his cheeks heat up even more.

By the time they make it the sweet shop in Hogsmeade, it’s beginning to fill up, but not so full that they have to fight their classmates for entry. Steve eyes light up when he races toward the back where the big circular drum is. Bucky nearly falls over laughing when he sees the thin strings of sugar spinning inside. “Faerie floss? You’re obsessed with faerie floss?”

“It’s so fucking good!” Steve looks like a kid in, well a candy shop, eyes bright and lips twisted with excitement. Bucky thinks he’s fucking cute and wonders what he would taste like after eating a mouth of cottoned sugar.

“You realize that muggle kids eat that shit all the time, right?”

“Don’t care.” Steve smirks, ordering his candy. “It’s amazing.”

Steve gets the faerie floss and a bag of Bertie Bots Flavored Beans. Bucky selects one chocolate frog though he can’t help eying the squeaking taffy either. They approach the counter together where Bucky hangs back a step so that Steve can pay for his. When his candy is on the table, Steve turns around and tugs on Bucky’s elbow. “I’m getting his frog too,” Steve says to the attendant. “And a bag of taffy.”

“Steve, you don’t have to.” Bucky fights with his pride and the glow of appreciation that settles through him.

“Hush. I’m paying for the candy. You can get lunch.”

Bucky blushes again. Steve leans in close until he’s whispering in his ear, “You’re really cute when you blush.”

“It’s embarrassing.” Bucky rolls his eyes, taking his frog and the bag of taffy. “But thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.”

They spend the next several hours walking through Hogsmeade, looking at windows and stopping in when ever something strikes their fancy. Bucky is impressed when Steve spends nearly forty minutes in the bookstore, and likewise Steve doesn’t seem to mind when Bucky gets lost in the only shop in town that sells music. Bucky doesn’t buy anything, but he can’t help gently touching the vinyl and breathing in the musky smell of old paper. Steve picks up a new quill, but he seems content with window shopping as well.

Along the way, Steve keeps touching Bucky. A hand on his back, linking their arms, grabbing his elbow. It’s all under cover to keep each other close, but Bucky’s surprised by how much he likes it. He fights the urge to lean into each casual touch, to grab Steve’s hand, just because he wants to feel his fingers tangled up beside Steve’s. He’s never wanted to touch anyone before, even with Clint and Nat, he is very hands off, but he wants to touch Steve. He can’t explain it, it’s just nice to feel connected to someone else in the world.

Bucky can’t remember blushing so much in one morning, but he can’t remember laughing more either. It’s still not always easy to talk to Steve, but he likes the low chuckle that will escape when Bucky makes a joke. Bucky learns Steve likes to draw, read, and that he’s got the sweetest grin ever when he thinks no one is looking. Bucky’s enamored with his big blue eyes, and somehow Steve doesn't seem to think that Bucky’s annoying or a freak.

The other thing that Bucky realizes is that Steve has a lot of friends. They can’t go more than a few steps without someone stopping to say hi. It’s alright when it’s just his close friends, Bucky met Tony Stark and Pepper Potts outside the candy store and Thor Odinson and Jane Foster outside the bookstore, and it’s not awful. Bucky can’t help hanging back a second waiting for Steve to brush him off, but instead, Steve pulls him forward and introduces him, almost like he’s wanting to show Bucky off. Bucky can’t help becoming uncomfortable under the constant stares, but he bears it with good grace. Or at least he thinks he does.

Bucky feels better when they run into Nat and Clint coming out of the haberdasher. Steve doesn’t even bat an eye when they invite them to lunch. Nat’s got a knowing smirk on her lips and Bucky knows that soon as she can get him alone, he’s in for an inquisition.

It happens later, after they’ve got a tiny corner table in The Three Broomsticks, and Bucky and Nat have been sent to the bar to get their drinks. She at least lets him order before turning her sparkling dark eyes on him. “So, things seems to be going well.”

“Yeah, it’s great.” Bucky tries not to fidget and hopes that his hair is hiding the grin he can’t fight.

“You two seem to be close.”

“I guess.”

“Please tell you’ve listened to my advice and gave him more than two word answers?”

Bucky snickers. How had he forgotten how much he enjoyed teasing Natasha? “I have, I have, I promise. I’ve held like an entire conversation.”

“Who are you and what have you done with my Bucky?” She doesn’t sound upset, just amused and happy.

“Har. Har.” Bucky sticks his tongue out before growing more serious. “I really like him though.”

“That’s hardly news.” Natasha grins and rolls her eyes. “You’ve been pining after him for years. I know you like him. Or, more accurately, you like what you've always seen. You’re getting to know the real him now. Do you still like him, or are you still a little blinded by a schoolyard crush?”

Bucky thinks back to the causal touches, the shared laughs, the way Steve would pull him up to stand next to him, not behind him, even offering to pay for the candy this morning. Steve has been nothing but a sweet gentlemen the whole day. As a bonus he is funny, sharp, and has a body that makes Bucky want to faint.”Yeah, I really like him. He’s good. He’s too good for me.”

“Nope, nope nope.” Natasha slaps a hand over his mouth. “No more of the self deprecating shit. You are happy, and it’s okay to be happy. He makes you happy and, I gotta say, you don’t seem to be upsetting him with the way he keeps shooting you smiles.”

“What?” Bucky gasps in shock and spins to face the table Steve and Clint are still sitting at. Steve isn’t even trying to hide that ten megawatt smile and, oh yes, he’s staring at Bucky’s ass. Bucky blushes, waves, and turns back to the bar, giggling the whole time.

“Jesus Christ, you two are cute.”

“Shut up, Natasha.”

Lunch goes about the same way. Natasha is a constant tease, and Clint does nothing but encourage her. Steve bares it with good grace, doesn't even seem to mind, while half the time Bucky wants to crawl under the table. The way Steve’s elbow keeps bumping into his is a definite bright spot.

Clint and Natasha go their own way afterward, and Bucky and Steve head slowly down the crowded streets. “I’m really sorry about that. She doesn’t know how to stop, and Clint doesn't help.”

“Naw, they’re great.” Steve’s doesn’t seem to be lying, but Bucky knows how exasperating his friends can be. “Trust me, my friends are just as bad, if not worse. Good luck to you.”

“That’s not the least bit terrifying.”

“I promise, they’re not any worse than Natasha.” Steve grins. “It’s just that I haven’t dated anyone they haven’t known in a while, so they’re probably gonna be a bit crazier than normal. I promise, I’ll protect you.”

Bucky can tell that he means it as a joke. He’s got that smirk on his face, the one that’s all mirth, happiness, and untouched by a cloud. Bucky couldn’t help the nervous twist that he feels. The last person Steve had gone out with had been Peggy, and that had been a years long relationship. Bucky isn’t quite sure what to think about that. He doesn't want to be that jealous or insecure. He’s just trying very hard not think about.

Steve must notice Bucky’s mood souring as his own smile wilts. Bucky feels even worse for that. He’s the only person to take a joke so far out of context. Steve wraps an arm around his waist and leans in close until Bucky can feel the ends of Steve’s hair brushing his forehead. “What do you say we go somewhere a little quieter where we can talk?”

Bucky manages a nod, a small smile, and lets Steve pull him along through the crowd. Steve seems to have an intuitive feel for weaving through the clusters of students until they reach the end of the lane. Steve pulls Bucky through a narrow alley he has never even seen before. At the end, after walking through a gate, he finds himself in a quiet little corner garden hidden away from the rest of Hogsmeade. “I didn’t even know that this was here.”

“Yeah, I don’t think many people do.” Steve sits on a stone bench and pats the space next to him. Bucky sits gingerly, like at any moment he’s going to pushed off. Rumlow had pulled tricks like that a lot in their earlier years before he got meaner. “So, I suppose I owe you an explanation.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” Bucky says softly, looking at his fingertips to avoid having to look at Steve’s face. “I can’t help but be curious.”

“No. It’s fair enough. I mean, Peggy and I went out forever and we’ve only been apart for a couple months.” Steve takes a deep breath, and Bucky feels a little better seeing how nervous he is. “Peggy and I broke up back in June. It has been coming for a while. We didn’t hate each other or anything, and it wasn’t a big blow out. We had just been drifting apart for a while. It was time.”

Steve does a good job covering it, but he’s clearly still hurting, at least a little. Bucky has seen them together a couple of times and Bucky knows longing looks well. There’s a part of Steve that still misses Peggy, even if he doesn't want to admit it, and Bucky really doesn’t want to be hurt over that. He really doesn’t. “I’m sorry.” He says softly, dreading what’s to come next: the inevitable let down.

“I’m not gonna lie to you. I still miss her sometimes, but we’re over. Completely over. In fact, she’s been thinking about asking someone out to. I’ve kinda had a crush on you forever.”

“Who’s she going to ask out? Wait, what?”

“It’s your hair.” Steve sputters. “The longer it got, the more enamored with it I became. Plus, your eyes, your face and your smile. I didn’t plan on ever acting on, but then you kissed me during the club, and I thought that maybe there was a chance.”

Bucky wants, needs to say something, anything, but his mind is all snared around the thought that while he was quietly mooning over Steve, Steve had been doing the same thing for him.

Steve brushes his thumb along the curve of Bucky’s pink cheek. “You’re gorgeous.” He whispers. “I never thought that there was a chance. For a long time, I didn't want there to be, ‘cause of Peggy and I did love her, but I’m here now. Really, and I don’t know what I’m trying to say anymore, just that I...”

Bucky shut him up with a kiss and it is so much better than the mistake from the night of the club. Steve is responsive and pulls him closer, thumb soothing circles into his cheek. Bucky pulls away after only seconds, but Steve follows, lips firmer this time and tangling one hand into the roots of Bucky’s thick hair. Bucky doesn’t have a lot of experience kissing, but he can’t imagine it gets much better.

Steve pulls carefully on his hair, and it gets so much better. Bucky gasps, lips parting. Then Steve’s invading and his mouth tastes like the faerie floss he ate after lunch. Bucky wants more and he throws himself at the other man. It crosses his mind that he might be desperate, but he doesn’t care.

Steve pulls away and laying one last soft peck against Bucky’s lips. “I assume that’s an okay?”

“Okay.” Bucky gasps, realising that he’s half in Steve’s lap. “Definitely okay.”

* * *

Over the coming months, Steve and Bucky are nearly inseparable. They share desks during the classes the Slytherins and Gryffindors have together. They’re often to be found walking together in the halls, fingers linked with big, goofy grins. Bucky, Nat, and Clint all integrate with Steve’s group of friends, and the two Slytherins and Hufflepuff cheer loudly for Gryffindor when Steve and his team win the Gryffindor/Ravenclaw Quidditch match at the end of November.

Bucky’s favorite moments become the time he and Steve spend in the evening doing homework together, practicing dueling, or sharing quiet, stolen kisses. He’s afraid to move too fast, or scare himself or Steve, but he likes Steve. He’s never been content like this. Never been able to breathe as easy, or think as clearly. Steve is sweet, kind, and just a smidge protective. They got into their first fight over that last one, but they make up quickly.

Bucky isn’t always comfortable with the stares he always seems to get these days. Going out with one of the most popular students in school makes Bucky prime gossip fodder. He’s spent most of his life trying to skirt underneath the radar and now it’s damn near impossible. People who would never have given him a second glance now want to talk to him, want to know him, or want to know what’s like to going out with Steve Rogers.

It’s pretty great, but he never tells them that.

As November turns to December, Bucky has never been more ready for a semester to end. His normal plan is to stay at Hogwarts, with Nat and Clint while most everyone goes goes home for the holidays. The castle is empty and the teachers more likely to be lenient. It’s pretty great. When Steve hears this, he offers something different. The Rogers family throw a big Christmas shindig, and Steve wants Bucky to come home with him. Bucky’s never had somewhere to go for Christmas, and he’s equally nervous and excited.

He meets Sarah and Joseph Rogers at Kings Cross. Steve rubs circles into the small of his back to combat his nerves. Sarah and Joseph are perfectly welcoming and don’t seem to mind that their son is dating a guy now. Bucky can’t help being nervous, but Steve’s sweet smiles help.

It’s the best Christmas Bucky has ever had, even if it’s a little overwhelming at times. It’s the first time he’s had a real family to welcome him home. It changes something between them, and Steve’s kisses turn longer and warmer. By the time they’re heading back to school, they’re sharing a room. Bucky doesn’t enjoy the thought of sleeping alone again.

On the train, Steve and Bucky manage to get their own booth. They stretch themselves out over one side, arms around each other, and lips close enough to steal the occasional kiss. The silence is nice after the busy holidays and before their hectic last semester.

“You excited to see Nat and Clint again?” Steve asks, eyes closed, so that he can’t see Bucky watching the way the fine hairs brush his cheeks.

“Yeah, I’ve missed them.” Nat and Clint had opted to stay at Hogwarts. “I’m surprised Thor, Sam, and the others haven’t come and tried to find you.”

“I’m sure they’ll come later.” Steve opens his eyes and Bucky loves the way his blue eyes reflect the winter sun. “We’ve still got most of the ride to go.”

“Maybe we can keep them away for a little while longer.” Bucky mummers before sealing Steve’s lips with his, teasing him with his tongue. Steve’s hands slip underneath his shirt, fingers carefully stroking over soft skin. It’s slow and lazy, not building to anything, merely connecting them.

Then Bucky’s stomach gives a rumble and ruins the whole thing. Steve laughs against Bucky mouth, that beautiful twist of pink skin and white teeth. Bucky shakes his head, bumping his nose against Steve. “Shut up.”

“You’re fucking stomach, I swear.” Steve giggles. “Are you ever not hungry?”

“It’s well past lunch. I have the right to be hungry.” Bucky waggles his eyebrow, turning his afectate stare into a leer. “Beside, you like me hungry.”

“We’re in a public place, stop teasing me.” All the same, Steve’s hand settles onto the curve of Bucky’s ass.

Bucky shoves his tongue into Steve’s mouth, swallowing his moan before quickly pulling away and standing up.

“Bucky.” Steve whines. “Not fair!”

“I’m hungry, you ass. I’m gonna go find the trolley.”

“Bring me faerie floss!” Steve shouts after him.

“Get your own faerie floss.” Bucky complains, knowing all the while he’ll be getting cotton candy with his chocolate frog.

He has to cross two cars on his trek and as soon as he’s on the third one, the hair on the back of his neck stands on end. There’s barely contained violence in the air, and he could have sworn that someone was following him. He almost turns around and heads back to his car, but the thought of Steve’s disappointed face when he doesn’t get his cotton candy pushes him forward. He’s probably making it up anyway.

He weaves through the crowd of students until he reaches the end where the front is separated from the cabin by a entry room. Bucky thinks he’s the only one in there  and is just beginning to breathe again as he heads for the door when a shadow separates itself from the wall. Rumlow is glowering at Bucky, blocking his escape back to the cabin where there were more people.

“What do you want, Rumlow?” Bucky crosses his arms over his chest, standing tall, straight, and fighting the urge to cower. He and Steve have been working on this. Bucky’s perfectly capable of taking care of himself. He’s strong, talented, and he could stand up to some stupid bully. Turns out that the dueling club has been good for him.

“Who says I want anything from you, mudblood?” Bucky flinches in the face of Rumlow’s sneer.

“If you don’t want anything from me, then walk back into the car. Aren’t you supposed to be traveling with a teacher anyway?”

“Only because of your precious little fairy boyfriend.” Bucky glares, slipping his hand into a pocket of his robe to rub his thumb along his wand. He won’t make the first strike, but he’s not going to let Rumlow call Steve names either. “If he’d just walked away, I wouldn’t be kept under lock and guard all the time.”

“If you had just left me alone and not tried to kill me, then you would be fine. What’s your fucking problem with me anyway?”

Rumlow turns a funny shade of a red. “You’re a mudblood, stinking up the Slytherin House. You and that little girlfriend of yours, and that Hufflepuff that’s always following you around. It’s bad enough that you’ve got to be in Hogwarts at all, but you don’t have to blot up my sight.”

“Seriously, Rumlow, this is childish and I’m done. I’ve let you terrorize my childhood and I don’t care anymore. Stay away from me, my friends, and my boyfriend. Goodbye.”

Bucky turns to the door, already thinking about the next car and the trolley that will hopefully be on it. About chocolate that tries to hop away from you, kisses that taste like blue sugar fluff, about being proud of himself for standing up to his bully. The next moment his left arm is on fire, pain lacing up and down from his shoulder to his fingertips. A pained scream escapes his lips. Getting beat up earlier in the year hadn’t felt like this. This pain is impossible to think past.

He falls to his knees, looking up to see Rumlow pointing his wand at him and sneering down. He’s eyes are wide, blown in gleeful excitement in the face of his victims pained screams. “You can’t just walk away from me! You’re worthless! Pathetic!”

Bucky grits his teeth. A small kernel of his mind trying to think through the pain and the screaming is making it worse. There has to already be someone on the way. Between the screaming, and Rumlow shouting, they must have attracted attention. Rumlow’s spell feels like it’s ripping Bucky’s arm from his shoulder, and he doesn’t know if he has the time to wait for backup.

Using his right hand, he reaches into his pocket until shaking fingers are wrapped around the smooth, painted wood of his wand. Bucky pulls the wand out, points it at Rumlow and trying to remember everything he knows about casting a spell without words through the pain induced haze in his head.

It’s only seconds until Rumlow is frozen wide eyed, and terror faced, before falling backward with a thud. Bucky whimpers, curling into a ball, as the pain doesn’t stop.

There’s a blast as the door to the cabin comes down. Thor and Loki are the only faces that Bucky has time recognize before crumpling in pain and passing out.

* * *

Bucky first becomes aware of the muddled sound of voices, like he’s hearing through water. There’s pain still, but it’s distant, not strong enough to interrupt his thought process. The second thing he thinks of is that he’s leaning against something solid and warm. The fingers of his hand, his right hand not the one that hurt, were being held gently, and the smell, smokey and woodsy. He should have know it.

“Steve.” Bucky groans, turning his head into the Steve’s neck. He knows where he is. He’s with Steve, being cradled against his boyfriend’s chest. He’s safe. He’s safe and that’s all that matters.

“Buck?” Steve’s voice is rough, thick, and steady. “Bucky, you awake? Open your eyes for me, okay? Can you do that for me?”

Bucky groans like Steve has asks him to walk to the moon.

“Bucky.” This voice is different, feminine and commanding, with a posh british accent. “You need to wake up. You’re just fine, and Rumlow’s still out of it, but we need to know what happened.”

Curiosity causes Bucky to crack his eyes open. He’s surrounded by faces. Thor, Jane, Darcy, Angie. Tony, Pepper and Bruce are hovering outside the door. Kneeling next to him, and near Steve is a woman Bucky knows by sight, but has never met. “Peggy?”

“Hello, Bucky.” She’s got a sympathetic smile on her face like this isn’t as awkward for her as it is for Bucky. He can’t imagine it is. “How are you feeling?”

“Peachy.” Bucky manages a smile. Or he thinks he does. Maybe he doesn’t. No one else does. The pain in his left arm is starting to get worse now that they’ve woken him up. He wants to go to back to sleep, or maybe he wants Steve to kiss him. Something.

“Bucky, wait, I need you to wake up.” Bucky hasn’t even realized he’s closed his eyes. Peggy’s voice is impossible to ignore, steady and commanding. Bucky opens his eyes again, focusing on Peggy, since he can’t see Steve in this position. “Can you tell us what happened? By the time Thor and Loki broke down the door, Rumlow was petrified and you’d passed out.”

Bucky licks his dry lips and tries to ignore the fire growing in his arm. “Rumlow cornered me. Was gonna leave, but he hit me some spell. Feels like my arms on fire.”

“Sam’s gone to get one of the professors.” Steve’s is soft and pained. Bucky doesn’t like that, needs him to smile. “They’re gonna take care of you.”

“Did you hit him with Petrificus Totalus?” Peggy questions.

Bucky nods. “Was the only thing that I could cast without talking.”

“It was a good hit.” Thor tells him with easily the most honest smile in the room. “He’s still petrified. Loki and a few others are guarding him.”

“He was supposed to under constant supervision.” Steve growls, and Bucky can feel it rumbling in his chest. “How the hell did he get you alone?”

“My fault. I knew something was wrong.”

“It is not your fault.” Steve says fiercely, squeezing his fingers. “It’s his. They should have expelled him last fall. What the fuck were they thinking?”

“Steve.” Bucky tries not to be jealous of the intimacy with which Peggy says that name. “You need to calm down.”

Steve takes a deep breath, and Bucky can feel himself rise and fall on his chest. His lips brush against Bucky’s forehead. Bucky tires to curl a little closer into the embrace, but forgets to hold his left arm still. Pain ripples through his arm, taking his breath away and springing tears in his eyes. He bites back a scream, but can’t fight the whimper.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Steve repeats softly into Bucky’s ear, thinking that he did something wrong. Bucky shakes his head, but he can’t catch his breath long enough to form any words. “It’s okay, Bucky, I got you. I’m not letting you go. Not now, not ever.”

Bucky lets Steve’s words distract him as much as he can. He’s not proud of the way his eyes are watering, so he turns his face into Steve’s neck, fulfilling his need to hide. Steve in turn tangles his fingers into Bucky’s long hair, massaging Bucky’s scalp and murmuring soft little noises into Bucky’s ear. It helps, and Bucky’s able to to breath through the pain.

“If I were Rumlow, I’d be terrified.” Darcy says with a smirk. “Steve looks like he’s ready to murder him already, and Natasha will be on a warpath by the time we get back to Hogwarts.”

“I might leave her a piece,” Steve mutters.

“Might wanna hold up on the murder talk.” Tony announces. “Here comes the cavalry.”

Professor Coulson and Professor May file into the tiny room while most of their friends exist back to the hallway. Steve and Peggy, with only the occasional comments from the clearly suffering Bucky, explain what happened. When the story is told, it’s the angriest either Gryffindor was ever seen Coulson. “I told Pierce to keep a closer eye on him,” he mutters.

“We’ll deal with that later.” May places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I’ll go find one of the healers, and then take charge of Rumlow.”

Bucky briefly hears her issuing orders to their friends outside. Something about getting everyone out the hallways and keeping a crowd from forming. The pain has gotten to the point where it’s overwhelming and he can’t keep the occasional whimper from escaping his lips.

“As soon as the healers get here, we’ll get you something to take care of the pain.” Coulson says encouragingly. “You’re going to be alright.”

Bucky nods weakly and closes his eyes, trying to block everything, but Steve who is humming in his ear.

He’s not aware when the healers get there, only when things start to going fuzzy again. He yanks his eyes open, suddenly terrified that he’s losing Steve.

“It’s okay.” Steve whispers, lips against Bucky’s cheek. “Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Promise me?” Bucky begs.

“I promise. I’ll be here.” Lips meet lips, brushing, teasing, and reassuring. “Just go to sleep.”

Bucky’s out almost before Steve finishes.

* * *

He’s floating, nothing hurts, nothing’s holding him to the earth. Everything is black, deep, silent, and untouchable. There is something that he needs to be doing, something to think about, someone to worry about, but he can’t focus. There isn’t anything to focus on. Just sweet, painless oblivion.

Then the whispers start up.

“Nat, you’ve got to calm down.”

“I’m not going to calm down.” This voice comes out in a hiss, feminine and powerful. “Look at him, Clint. How many times have we had to do this? I’m sick of it. I’m sick of everyone looking at him like he’s somehow worthless.”

“You and I both know not everyone looks at him at like that.”

“Then why does this keep happening? I thought, when he got together with Steve, and they finally locked down Rumlow, that would be the last of it. I thought that he would be okay and now they think he may never get full use of his arm back.”

“Nat, look at me and breath. Okay? He’s going to be okay. He’s Bucky Fucking Barnes and he’s pretty damn resilient. Getting beat up back in the fall was worse than this. Now, I know you care about him, and I know you love him ‘cause of the shit you give him. He’s going to be okay.”

There’s silence before Natasha speaks again, voice wet and soft. “He deserves better, Clint.”

“He’s got better. He’s got you, and me, and now he’s got Steve. What can I do to make you feel better?”

“Help me hang up Rumlow from the rafters?”

“I have plans to graduate in a couple of months.” Clint snickers. “I’ll make it up to you though, later.”

“That’s not going to help me not want to cause Rumlow bodily harm.”

“Aw, Nat, no. I thought you liked my moves.”

“You’re an ass.”

“That’s my girl.” Clint says softly.

Everything's quiet after that and Bucky, curious as ever, forces his eyes to open. The hospital wing is instantly recognizable, lit by a soft glow that doesn't hurt his tired eyes. Clint and Nat are standing away from his bed, arms wrapped around each other. Clint’s mouth is at Nat’s ear, whispering something makes her nod and curl closer. It’s oddly intimate for the two, and Bucky has to look away. They’ve been together for years, but Bucky can count on one hand the number of times that he’s seen them wrapped up that close to each other.

He squirms a little on his bed, uncomfortable from laying so still. How long he has been out, he had no idea. He remembers being on the train, with Steve supporting him, before passing out. The window across from him is dark, so he figures it must have been six hours or more ago. Bucky’s left arm is wrapped in gauze and plaster, keeping him from being able to move it. It hurts dully, but not enough to overwhelm him. His mouth feels dry and he thinks he might be hungry, but otherwise he feels fine.

There’s a glass of water sitting on a table next to his hand. He moves his right hand and realizes it’s stuck in much different way than his left. Steve’s head is laying in the side of the bed on top of Bucky’s hand. He’s fallen asleep that way, if his closed eyes and pinched lips were anything to go by. He can’t be comfortable with the way is bent and he should have gone to his bed. He promised Bucky he would be there and Steve is.

“Bucky?” Nat’s voice is closer than it should be. He turns back to his left and find Natasha leaning over him, green eyes wide and worried with Clint hovering behind her. “Bucky, how long have you been awake? Why didn’t you say something?”

“Just woke up,” Bucky says voice rough with disuse. “You were busy.”

Clint snickers as he sinks to sit on the bed next to Bucky feet. “See, I told you no one cared about us, Natasha.”

“Hush, Clint.” Natasha sat closer to the Bucky and carefully pushes hair out of his face. Bucky’s grateful. It was getting annoying. “How are you feeling?”

“Better then when I feel asleep.” Bucky smirks up at her. “You really don’t have to be so worried.”

“Well, someone has to be.” Natasha rolls her eyes. “Now tell me the truth, how are you feeling?”

Bucky shrugs as best he can with one shoulder as immobile as his arm. “Everything's sort of numb. What’s the diagnosis?”

Nat’s face pales, and if anything had been left in his stomach, he would have been sick. Nat wasn’t scared of anything, it’s one of the things he’s always liked about her.

“They haven’t been able to figure out what spell Rumlow hit you with. It’s something they’ve never seen before. It did a number on your arm and shoulder though. It’s broken in at least three places. You’re elbows shattered, wrist dislocated, snapped tendons. Three of your fingers are broken and your shoulder socket is pulverised. It must have hurt like a bitch.”

“Something like that.” Bucky mutters. “What are they thinking about mending it?”

“The healers are regrowing some of the bone, mending others. They don’t think you’re going to get full motion back.”

Bucky swallows thickly mouth drier than he can ever remember it being. “What does that mean?”

“It means your arm is screwed, man.” Clint offered peaking around Nat’s shoulder. “Your shoulder is gonna be stiff and your elbow almost unmovable. They do think that you’ll be able use your hand.”

“So, basically, I’m going to be one handed. I always was a freak. Now I guess I just have a physical problem to go with it.”

“Hey, no.” Natasha grabbed his chin, turning her to face him. “You are not a freak. You are smart and talented. This is nothing. You’ll be fine.”

“Bit more than nothing, Nat.”

She’s going to argue with him, he can tell from the determined light in her green eyes, and as much as he really doesn't want to deal with it, there isn't much he can do considering he's chained to the bed. He glances at Clint, begging with his eyes.

Clint stands up, pulls on her shoulders until she’s on her feet. “You get some rest, Bucky. We’ll talk to you in the morning.”

Clint tows Natasha away before Bucky can say anything. He’s pretty glad. He’s not up to arguing with Nat tonight. He’s got too much to wrap his head around.

Bucky closes his eyes, begging and hoping for sleep to come back to him. He doesn't want to think about this. Of all the things, to lose the motion in his arm, just when he's gotten the guts to stand up to Rumlow. That would teach him.

Bucky opens his eyes when the darkness becomes oppressive. He traces the curve of the roof over his head, the grain of the wood furniture, the light highlights of Steve's hair gleaming almost orange in the muted light. His hand is warm from the face resting against it and he longs to curl his fingers around that shape.

He sucks in a fragile breath as suddenly everything rushes down around him. The holiday was so great and warm. He finally knew what it meant to have a family. He'd been safe and protected...loved to the fullest extent.

It seems he can't have anything good without disastrous repercussions. It isn't fair.

Bucky sniffs, warm, hot tears falling down his face, and with both his hands trapped, he couldn't wipe the evidence away. He squeezes his lips together tightly forcing himself not whimper and make a sound. He doesn't want to wake up Steve, and he doesn't want to be seen crying.

This is nothing. He will be okay.

His eyes shut as the overwhelming truth overwhelms him. Rumlow has finally gotten his wish. Bucky is changed, maimed, forever. He will never be the same and Bucky wants to rant and rave about it. Only he can't because it’s the middle of the night and his boyfriend is asleep.

* * *

"If facing a gryphon, would you use an exploding charm or transform a stick into a sword?" Steve is sitting on the side of Bucky's bed, reading their Defence Against the Dark Arts homework. They need high marks in order to get into the Auror training program. Since Bucky hasn't been allowed to attend classes, Steve has been bringing all the homework up with him after school.

Bucky grunts noncommittally. He knews the answer, he just doesn't feel like giving it.

Steve gives him that determined glare that he's been using a lot lately. "I know you know the answer, Bucky."

"Don't care."

"Aw, don't start this again." Steve groans, but shuts his book anyway.

"Why shouldn't I? No one is going to hire an auror who can't use his good arm."

"That's bullshit, and you know it."

On some level, Bucky knows that, but he's been trapped in the hospital wings for three weeks now with healers poking and prodding at his arm. They’re on the verge of giving up on him, and so is Bucky. He only has a little rotation in his shoulder and even less in the elbow. His hand and wrist are mostly okay, but what's the point when he can barely move the arm?

Nat tells him he’s depressed. Clint says he just needs time. Steve is optimistic. His newer friends are all upbeat and positive when they stop by. Shocker of all shockers, even Loki seems to be upset about the whole thing and has started hanging around, much to Darcy's delight.

None of that seems to matter to Bucky. He doesn't want to face the fact that he basically has one arm. He shuts himself off from everyone like it will make it hurt less. It doesn't. He misses Steve like crazy, even if he is sitting right next to him.

"I don't know it."  Bucky repeats what's he's been saying for a week now. "I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing and I don't know why the fuck I'm bothering. I can’t do anything fun like help you win the dueling club championship."

"I don't give a fuck about the dueling club championship." Steve's angry now, and Bucky's relieved. Steve will figure out that he deserves someone better than Bucky. "You know better than anyone that magic is more mental than physical. You can still hold a wand, can't you?"

"Course I can." Bucky sputters. "I'm just all off balance and useless in a fight."

"That is it." Steve pushes himself to his feet with a sharp, jolting motion. Bucky's heart freezes in his throat. He's been trying to push Steve away all this time, but now that the moment has come, he realises what a mistake it is. His relationship with Steve is one of the the best things in his life. He has never better since he met Steve, and now he’s pushed him away. Bucky wants to say that he’s sorry, wants to beg him for forgiveness, to promise to try harder, but he’s wide eyed and silent like a deer in front of a mack truck.

Surprisingly, Steve doesn’t leave. He pushes chairs and tables to the side and opens a little bit of empty space. He then grabs Bucky’s good arm and pulls him from the bed, making him stand at one end while Steve takes the other. He summons his shield and holds it front of himself.

“Come on.” Steve growls. “Give me your best shot.”

“Steve, just stop it. This isn’t going to prove anything.”

“I swear to god, just shut up and hit me already.” Steve’s blue eyes narrow and harden. Bucky instantly feels like a prey in his eyes. “Or, are you a coward?” he spits out.

Bucky jerks back like he’s just been slapped, face hot and burning in his gut. Rage rushes through him, shaking his limbs, and turning his vision red. He’s surprised by how badly he wants to lash out. He’s angry at Steve for making him do this. He’s angry at the world for always giving him the short straw. He’s angry at the school for letting Rumlow get away with it for as long as he did. Eight years of anger is rushing to the surface and he can’t hold it back anymore. He doesn’t remember pulling his wand from his pocket, he doesn’t remember readjusting himself until his weaker left side is facing away from Steve, but he does remember snarling. “I’m not a coward.”

Steve shrugs, smirking, and if Bucky’s paying attention, he would see the worry and apprehension flash across Steve’s face. “You keep telling me that, but you let people walk all over you. Maybe Rumlow was right all along. You aren’t worth the time.”

Everything in Bucky goes cold. “You, you talked to Rumlow?”

“He tried to tell me that I was wasting my time with you. Must’ve been right.”

Bucky feels pressure building inside him like a volcano. His short, shallow breaths seem to add fuel to the fire burning inside him, along with his white-knuckled grip on his wand. “Fuck you!”

“Why are you even here, hm?” Steve taunts. “Precious little fairy can barely fire a spell.”

For one moment, clarity breaks through the haze of anger. Bucky’s heard those words before, and they’re not Steve’s. They don’t sound like anything Steve has ever said. Bucky has heard them before numerous times. They’re Rumlow’s words, Rumlow’s weapons, word for word. They don’t sound right coming from Steve’s mouth.

“You don’t mean that.” Bucky’s voice wavers, trembling, and Steve takes his bottom lip between between his teeth. Bucky knows he does that when he’s uncertain. “Steve, please?”

Steve’s face falls for just a split second. He looks devastated, he looks uncertain, he looks traumatised. He moves the shield lowering a half an inch and shifting forward like he’s about to reach for Bucky. He looks away because he can’t stand to look at the sadness in Steve’s face. He dropping his shoulders and wilting like a unwatered flower. The shield goes back and the cruel gleam comes back to Steve’s eyes. This time though, it’s brittle like it might fall apart in at moment’s notice.

Bucky’s lowering his wand, confusion taking over his features when Steve grins and lands his final blow. “I don’t even know why you’re here. You don’t belong here. You don't belong anywhere.”

Steve’s rip open old wounds, exposes old pain, and it doesn’t matter that Steve doesn’t mean it anymore. Bucky heaves a wordless howl of fury and lashes out sending a bright blue arch of power straight at Steve. He blocks it with his shield and lets out a snicker. “That’s all ya got? Come on. A second year can do better than that.”

Bucky screams, sending a shower of sparks to hide the bolt he aimed for Steve’s uncovered left side. Steve yelps when he doesn’t block and Bucky grins in a rush a of pride. Without hesitating, he aims another round and another. Steve blocks most of it, but every once in a while, one spell would hit and pull a hiss out of Steve. Bucky snickers in triumphant, proving himself more than capable.

He isn’t paying attention, Steve sends a spell at him. It hits legs and trips him up, sending him the ground in a twist of limbs and robes.

“Come on. Get up. Can you?”

Bucky plans to spring back up to his feet, but he forgets that he can’t use his left hand. He ends up falling back onto that side, hard enough that he feel something bruise. Shame colors his cheeks worse than Steve’s taunting. He’s on the floor, he can’t get up, and if Steve runs his mouth one more time, Bucky might strangle him.

He sends a spell of his own at Steve’s legs which catches him off guard and sends him spiraling. Bucky takes advantage, knowing if he can get up first, he could end this all together. He places his weight on his right hand and tries to hop back to his feet. It works better than he thought and he soon advances on Steve, knocking his wand away and pointing his own down on him.

Bucky knows he should let go. He’s won. The duel is over. But this anger within him is still boiling, his shame, his humiliation, his fear swirling inside of him. It's not because Steve challenged him. It's because Steve used words that he has used against himself over and over. It's because, for a moment, Bucky feels himself give in and believe Steve.He hates how weak and pathetic he is.

“Bucky, I’m sorry.” Steve’s wide eyes are devoid of all the cruelty that had been there. They’re full of light and a little bit sadness. Bucky hates them. “I was just trying to help. See? You can do it. You beat me.”

“You fucking asshole.” Steve’s confession adds fuel to the fire. "You, you told me to believe in myself, that I was strong, good, and talented and look where that got me! I stood up to Rumlow and look what I lost! I listened you and I lost an arm. This is your fault. This is all your fault!"

“I know.” Steve’s voice is soft. All the bluster and arrogance is gone as if it was a mask to begin with. Bucky blinks, and Steve’s the kind, caring person Bucky knows, only his wide eyes are wet and filled with anguish. Bucky grips his wand a little tighter, palms slick. He can’t seem to pull in a deep breath. “I know, Bucky, and I’m sorry. For everything. For pushing you, and for not being there when Rumlow—” Steve’s voice cracks. He squeezes his eyes shut, eyelashes wet against his cheeks. “I’m just so sorry.”

Bucky stares, chest heaving, anger and confusion rolling inside him. He lowers his wand, stepping back, trembling all over. “You, all of this, you said that just to what? To make me fight? To make angry? Steve, that’s fucked up.”

“Yeah.” Steve sits up, making an effort to keep himself as small as possible. He sniffles, lip between his teeth again, and one hand nervously making tracks through his hair. “I just couldn’t stand you sitting there anymore. I didn’t know what to to do anymore cause it felt like I was losing you.”

Bucky can’t argue with that and sinks to sit on the edge of the bed. The fight’s gone out, but it hasn’t healed the wounds.

“I did manage to beat you.” Bucky smiles halfheartedly, trying to find their old common ground. “So there’s that.”

“Yeah.” Steve pulls his knees up to his chest, making his large body look oddly vulnerable. “Great job me. I just became another bully.”

Bucky wants to argue with him, to tell him that it’s nothing and they can just kiss and makeup, but he can’t seem to let the hurt go. For the first time, Bucky isn’t going to deny it. “Yeah, you did.”

“Tell me to leave, and I will.” Steve offers,  weak and choked. “I mean it. I’ll leave if you want me to. I want to stay, but if you can’t forgive this, then I won’t blame you. Just look at me and tell me.”

Bucky looks and sees Steve tiny, vulnerable and sad, but he can't shake the fear that the other Steve he just saw, the one who glared and shouted insults, is real. “I just I think I need some time.” The words burn as he says them, but he doesn’t stop either. “Just a little, ya know.”

“Okay.” Steve tries to smile, to make it seem like he’s fine, but it falls. Bucky can’t stand that pain on top of his so he looks away. Once a coward, always a coward. “I’ll see you around.”

Bucky nods and doesn’t watch him leave. When the sound of his footfalls stops echoing around, Bucky falls into the bed, clutching the pillow, and tries to block out the world around him and remember what it feels like to be loved.

* * *

Winter comes blustery and cold, coating everything in white snow. The students are all bundled up, walking together for protection from the harsh northern wind. It is winter’s very nature to push people together, pairing them up in twos or threes seeking protection and warm. Bucky spends a lot of time with Nat and Clint, but keeps his other new friends as well. Loki and Darcy start dating and Loki seems to be the angriest about what Rumlow had done. He makes a point of joining Natasha and Bucky at the Slytherin table. Angie and Peggy are together a lot, and Bucky finds an odd sort of solace in the other woman’s sharp wit and quiet compassion.

Bucky doesn't regain a lot of movement in his arm, but he doesn't let that stop him either. Bucky has always been stubborn, and whether he likes it or not, Steve's fight had been just what he needed. Clint ends up being a lot of help because he knows whats it was like to live with a disability. Nat claims to be unimpressed when he steadily begins climbing to the top of his classes, but he sees the glint of pride in her eyes.

Gone is the Bucky who hides behind his hair, who tries to remain invisible. What has that gotten him but a busted-up arm? He smiles more, enjoys showing off his skills, and makes friends on his own. He stops blaming himself, his background for his problems and takes charge. If Bucky is being honest, it feels good and he’s happy.

As winters cold gives way to the fresh air of spring, Bucky can admit that there is still something missing. He misses Steve. Desperately. He’s still hurt about the things Steve said, but he’s able to look at it now and see Steve was trying to help. Its Steve who’s given him the push he needs to change himself for the better. Steve who had fallen asleep at his bedside and refused to leave. They say actions speak louder than words, and Steve's actions scream louder than any words that have ever left his mouth.

More than that, Bucky misses Steve. He misses that crooked smile and the deep dimples when he tells a joke. He misses the whispered words of affection that he'd hoarded away like a miser. He misses walking together, arms wrapped around each other like they were anchored to the earth together. He misses kisses, gentle touches, god, he misses sex. He misses not being alone at night. He misses everything about Steve, and it gnaws away at him day in and day out.

There’s no avoiding Steve either, and that’s the hardest part. He sees him every day across the courtyard or in classrooms. It kills him how Steve’s smiles aren't as big anymore, or his sky blue eyes as bright. They make Bucky want to reach out and try to bridge the gap, but he has no way of knowing if Steve wants that or what he would say. As much as he hates it, this is the way things are now, and there is no changing it.

The last Quidditch match of the year finds the school in a small cold snap. Bucky and Natasha are sitting high in the stands, wrapped in bright yellow and black scarves to go with their green-lined Slytherin robes. Gryffindor and Hufflepuff have made it to the school finals. Since Clint is the Hufflepuff seeker, Bucky and Nat have added Hufflepuff colors to their green. Bucky is trying very hard not to think about how nice it would have been to wear red and gold instead.

"I swear he's nervous." Natasha says softly so only Bucky can hear her. It doesn't matter. Bucky has known Natasha long enough to know when she’s nervous. They'd sat in those same seats for three years in a row just to watch Clint lose every time. Clint wanted it, bad, and Nat wanted it for him.

Bucky wraps an arm around Natasha's shoulder pulling her closer to his broad chest. "He'll do fine. He's better this year than any other. He's got this."

"I know. I just worry, which is stupid."

"You love him." Bucky says simply, fighting his own wave of sadness. "It’s not stupid."

"We're moving in together after graduation." Natasha admits like it’s a dirty secret.

"I heard. I'm happy for you two."

Nat's cheeks turn a delicate shade of pink that has nothing to do with the cold wind. Bucky can't remember when the last time she blushed, and he can't resist snickering at her. "Shut up. What are you going to do?"

"I'm not sure yet. Tony offered me a place to stay, if I need it. Maybe I'll take him up on it. At least until I hear back from the Aurors."

"Ew. Living with Tony Stark. Good luck with that."

"He's not so bad. Pepper keeps him in line and Banner, when he's around. They're both going to work for the ministry, doing research or something."

"That should be right up their alley."

"Yeah."

They're distracted by the appearance of another Slytherin with added color. Loki claims the seat next to Bucky, giving them a charming smile with a gleam in his dark eyes. "Morning. You two are looking rather close."

Bucky yanks his arm from Natasha's shoulder and fights the urge to punch Loki's smirking face. Sometimes the git just irritates him.

"Mind your own business, Loki." Nat says sweetly. "I could steal your girlfriend in a heartbeat and don't you forget it."

"I thought the defining trait of Hufflepuffs is loyalty?" Loki's smirk deepens, and Bucky rolls his eyes. Loki and Natasha can run circles around each other all day if left alone.

"Of course it is."

"Then, why would my Darcy leave me for you?"

"Because I'm hotter."

"You know, I've been thinking," Bucky interrupts before that argument can start again. The last time they’d tried, the Slytherin Common room had nearly been torn to bits. "If anyone were to take over the world one day, it would be a pair. A Slytherin and Hufflepuff."

"Of course, why else would I date Clint?" Natasha deadpans.

"On this, you and I can agree." Loki smirks, and Bucky huffs. So much for that plan.

Fortunately, Bucky can turn around and talk to the people behind him while letting Natasha and Loki continue their bickering. Angie and Peggy have settled in behind him, and he turns to them with a smile. Angie is quick to smile back and chatter away happily. Peggy seems a little more reserved and quiet than usual and Bucky lets her be. He knows her well enough to know that if she feels she needs to say something, she will.

Also, Bucky might be flirting a little with Angie. It’s nothing serious. It’s not that he wants to date Angie. He really doesn’t. He's just discovered that he likes the interplay.

Bucky doesn't even realize that the game has started until Nat and Loki are cheering loudly as Darcy knocks a bludger right into Thor, which almost makes him fall off his broom. Bucky keeps his eye on Clint and Sam, who are hovering over the field and occasionally diving to make a grab for the snitch. Neither are able to touch it though, and the game keeps going. Bucky makes a point to only look at Steve, who is stationed in front of the Gryffindor scoring rings, when the game calls for it. It hurts to look at him, bright eyed and golden hair in the sunlight, cheeks pink against the blustery wind. Bucky realizes with a pang that he's proud of Steve and he doesn't know what to do with that. Steve isn't his to be proud of anymore. He still can help occasionally sliding over to study him hovering in the air and shouting encouragement to his team.

He must not be as subtle as he thinks he has been, because just as he turns to pay attention to the rest of the game, there's a tap on his shoulder. Peggy is leaning in close. "Could I have a word with you?"

"Sure, what do you need?"

"Privately?"

Bucky nods and climbs to his feet. Nat looks up, confused, but Bucky waves her off. She needs to stay here for Clint. What ever Peggy wants to say is clearly for Bucky alone.

He follows the slight woman into one of the wells between stands where it’s quieter. Peggy spins on her heel, rounding on Bucky. "Do you still love Steve?"

Bucky sputters, stunned into silence. He’s never admitted to being love with Steve in the first place. He’s never been in love with anyone in his life. He doesn’t know what that feels like. Under Peggy’s steady brown gaze, Bucky’s forced to deal with it. Has he been in love with Steve? Is he still in love with Steve? If he is, what is he supposed to do about it?

“Peggy, I don’t know. Why?”

Peggy sighs, long and suffering. “You are both idiots. Let me tell you something about Steve. He falls hard and he falls fast. He falls in love with everyone a little bit. It’s just the way he is, but I’ve never seen him with anyone the way he is with you. Not even with me. You brought something out in him that I’ve never seen before. He’s always sweet, always kind, but the protectiveness, the fierceness, that’s all you, Bucky. He loves you, Bucky. Even now, and it’s killing him what he did to you.”

Bucky leaned against the wall, staring at his shoes scuffing the wood boards underneath them. “I know.”

“You know what?”

“I said I know.” Bucky snaps. “I know. I know he loves me. I mean, I want him to love me. I just—he was trying to help, and it scared me.”

“He told me.” Peggy says calmly. “Are you still scared?”

“No.” Bucky doesn’t have to think for a moment. He isn’t scared, not anymore. Steve doesn’t have it in him to be like Rumlow. Not in a million years did Bucky ever think that Steve could be cruel or malicious just for the hell of it.

In hindsight, he can see what Steve did, pushing his buttons, making him angry in the hopes that it’d shake him out of his funk and get him functioning again. It had worked. Bucky can stand on his own for the first time. Learning to get by without proper use of his left arm has been tricky, but he’s learning. He isn’t as weak as he thought and Steve is a huge part in him realizing that. He deserves at least a thank you for it.

“I’m not afraid of him. I’m just not sure I can trust him. It’s stupid, and I know he was trying to help, but there is a part of me that knows I can’t handle it if he really did think those things. Steve is supposed to be perfect,” Bucky confesses.

“That’s your problem. Steve isn’t perfect. Trust me, he’s far from it.” Peggy smiles with just a hint of longing. “He’s a hothead, he doesn’t think before he leaps, and he’s stubborn. My god is he stubborn! It’s like talking to a mule, but then again, so is talking to you. Steve can be unappreciative and selfish without meaning to because he’s so convinced that he can take care of himself. He’s not perfect, Bucky. You’ve got him on a pedestal, and to be fair, he’s got you on one too.”

“I pinned after him for eight years. Forgive me if there was a bit of hero worship.” Bucky rolls his eyes, sarcasm lacing his words. “How the hell has he got me on a pedestal?”

“For one, he thinks the world of you, Bucky. Still does. I believe his words were ‘so stupidly brave that you can’t help but want to be around him.’”

“He’s got that totally backwards.”

Peggy glares at him and he shuts his trap. She can be a truly terrifying when she applies herself to it. “Steve doesn’t see your faults, your moodiness, your arrogance. No more than you can see his. As long as that’s happening, this is never going to work.”

“So, what are you telling me? That we were doomed from the get go and should just move on?” Bucky wants to scream at her that that can’t be farther from the truth, but he knows she’s right. Steve had swooped in like his own personal hero, a figure too large for his life, and as happy as Bucky has been, it couldn’t have worked. Not as long as he is always looking up at Steve and not straight at him. That realization burns. He’s harbored the hope that somehow all this will have a happy ending for them, and it’s being snuffed out.

“I didn’t say that.” Bucky snaps to attention under her soft words, hope flaring back to life. “But as long as you were both unequal, it was never going to work. Something would have to have happened sooner or later to snap the perfect image and it did. You both reacted the same way and it broke like a theard. It doesn’t make the good any less though.”

It doesn't. Steve is rash and stubborn. It doesn't mean he isn't courageous and right, too. He is human. Maybe the faults make the good parts better, make him shine brighter in the shadow of himself. Steve hadn't meant to hurt him, had helped even though his methods had also driven Bucky away. It wasn't so awful. People make mistakes. Bucky should never have put Steve on a pedestal.

If that is the case, then perhaps he needs talk to Steve. A shiver of dead rushes his down his spine at the idea of going up to Steve in front of the great hall, or having a corner Steve in a classroom.  That he can’t do, he doesn't want to deal with everyone else. This is between him, and Steve, and he knows how quickly rumors can start.

Maybe, if could get someone to act as a go between for him, he can Steve by himself and try to talk to him.

"Do you think," Bucky begins timidly, afraid to hope too much, afraid to get hurt again, “he would agree to talking with me?"

"Bucky, I think he would be thrilled." Peggy pats his shoulder, and the surreality of their situation comes crashing in. They're both exes of the same guy, and she's trying to fix them. Bucky owes her big time. "I'll grab him for you after the game. Oh, and one more thing, stop flirting with my girlfriend."

Bucky stands frozen as Peggy starts heading back to their seats. "You and Angie?"

"Don't act so scandalized, Barnes."

Bucky howls with laughter, doubling over, and letting the mirth chase away his nerves.

Bucky, Natasha, Loki, and Angie are on their feet a couple hours later when Clint out raced Sam to grab the snitch. Hufflepuff wins the Quidditch Cup, with Clint becoming the hero of the House.

* * *

Bucky has to admit, Hufflepuffs know how to throw a party. The basement under the kitchens is packed and jamming. Bucky has to weave his way through the crowd of partiers trying to find his friends. Clint and Darcy have been the center of attention for most the night. It’s not hard to find them, Nat, and Angie. Clint's cheeks are pink and his eyes just a shade unfocused. Bucky wonders if someone spiked the punch with how loud he's gotten.

"Bucky!" Clint calls out, his voice just shy of obnoxious. It does at least clear a place through the crowd. "Bucky, man, you should have played Quidditch! We could have been champions!"

"I wouldn't have played on your team, stupid." Bucky snickers.

"Oh." Clint looks momentarily confused before his face brightens again. "You still shoulda played. It’s fun."

"I'll keep that in mind. Have you guys seen Peggy?"

"She said she'd be here." Angie pipes up.

"Why do you need Peggy?" Nat sounds confused.

"She’s talking to Steve for me." It’s Bucky's turn for pink cheeks.

Clint lets a big whoop loud enough to startle everyone around them. Nat slaps his shoulder before turning back to Bucky. "It's about time. I figured that's what it was about when she pulled you away during the game. What are you gonna tell him?"

"I don't know yet." Bucky shrugs under Nat's intense gaze. "I'm gonna be honest though."

"Honesty is the best policy." Clint sing-songs.

"Clint Barton, how drunk are you?" she turns to him with an indulgent smile, though annoyance is seeping off her a little bit as well.

“I’m just celebrating.” He flashes the best puppy dog eyes he’s got at her, and she slaps his arm gently, smirking at his rosy cheeks and bright eyes. Bucky feels a pang, jealous of the love that the two clearly share even if they try to hide most of the time. The only person he’s ever imagined sharing something like that with is Steve. If he wasn’t already convinced he needs to make his thing with Steve work, watching Clint and Natasha confirms it.

Peggy makes her way through the crowd and wraps an arm around Angie’s waist before smiling at Bucky. “He said he’d be in the classroom. He also said you know what that meant.”

Bucky nods, a warm glow settling in his chest. “I do. Wish me luck?”

“Good luck, Bucky!” Clint yells excitedly.

“Go get him.” Natasha’s encouragement is as soft as Clint’s is loud. It’s still pretty great.

Bucky gets out of the Hufflepuff common room as quickly as he can, and then sprints through the hallways and stairwells. His heart hammers in his chest when he passes Professor Coulson’s office and he doesn’t stop until he’s three doors down in front of an unused classroom. Deja vú washes over him, remembering months before, the first time he met Steve here and everything changed. Bucky crosses his fingers and dares to hope that everything is going to change again.

He pushes open the door open and finds Steve sitting on the floor in the same place where they crashed after practicing, where they shared self-indulgent kisses late into the night that led to warm touches and groans filling the air. It’s the first time they’ve been alone since that terrible afternoon in the hospital ward, and Steve looks so lost that Bucky has to fight his own body to keep from rushing over and wrapping Steve up in his arms.

“I’m sorry.” Steve speaks up when Bucky’s barely walked into the room. “I shouldn’t have pushed you like that, I was impatient and hurtful. I’m just sorry.”

Bucky leans against the opposite wall and bites his plump lower lip. Honesty. No brushing it off like it hadn’t mattered. “It did hurt, you know.” He admits softly, not able to meet Steve’s troubled, soulful eyes. “You said those things and you sounded just like everyone else. You were supposed to be better, but you weren’t and that hurt.”

Steve nods and as much as Bucky hates it, he’s glad there’s distance between them. He won’t be able to get all this out if they’d been sitting side by side. The temptation to brush it aside like it wasn’t important would be too strong. He’d reach out to touch Steve and he’d get desperate. He’d want to shove everything back under the rug and forget about it. Great for the short term, not so great in the long term.

“It was really stupid.” Steve mutters. “I got scared because you feel like a part of me. I love your smile and your laugh and how smart you are. I could see it all slipping away. I got desperate. I shouldn’t have done it, I just felt like I was losing you. ”

“You probably were. I think I was trying to push you away. So, that was pretty idiotic too.”

“Plenty of stupid to go around between us.” Steve smiles and it’s jagged, like its about to fall apart. “I know sorry doesn’t make up for it, and that I screwed up big time…”

“Okay, hold on right there.” Bucky holds up his right hand, one part of him wanting to take Steve’s guilt away, and the other part of him wanting to get this off his chest. “You weren’t the only one who screwed up. I did it as well. I pushed you away and I reacted the wrong way. I should have talked to you. Fuck, that this is the first time I’ve talked to you in months is crazy. I put you on a fucking pedestal, acting like you could do no wrong. The first time you do something wrong, I acted like you had the fucking plague.”

“You thought I was perfect?”

Bucky wants to smack him, because he looks hopeful and it’s making Bucky’s heart pound all the harder. Looking at his face, at the way those eyes crinkle around the edges, Bucky’s nerves melts away like snow in May. That’s his Steve who gets so fucking ecstatic about the way Bucky thinks of him that he could light the whole world with it. “Yes, I did, you stupid punk. How I could think that, I don’t know.” Bucky narrows his eyes, lips twitching as he fights a smile. “ You’re pretty insufferable, you know that right?”

Steve chuckles, just a little, and the room brightens under its force. “I’ve been told once or twice.”

"You scared me.” Bucky whispers. “You continue to scare me. I’ve been hurt all my life. People have called me names, beat me and thought me to be nothing but a coward, but it was nothing compared to hearing you use their words. I didn't know how strong I was until you showed me. I didn't know what home felt like before you, until you were filling space that I didn’t know needed to be filled. You terrify me because you can hurt me more than anyone else with less. You’re dangerous to me, but at the same time, you’re everything good in me.”

Steve climbs unsteadily to his feet, takes slow steps toward him. He’s close enough that Bucky could reach out and touch him like he’s been wanting to for months, yet not close enough that he can feel Steve’s warmth. It’s insufferable and infuriating and pushes air fast and hard out of his lungs. “Bucky, what are you trying to tell me?”

“I love you, Stevie.” Bucky’s voice is clear and ringing with conviction, but still soft and overflowing with pain and love in equal measure. “I love you. You can hurt me worse than any of them because I love you. I thought that I loved you because you wouldn’t do that to me. Now, I realize that I love you because you would. It would be an accident because you were trying to help me. If you hadn’t pushed, I would have just kept wallowing in how miserable I was. You risked us, for me, and I’m just so damn grateful for that. I guess I love you because you learn from your mistakes and do your damndest not to do them again...right?”

Steve’s lips at twitching, fighting to curve into a smile. “Have I got that chance?”

“Yeah.” Bucky nods. “I mean, if you want it. I screwed up too, ya know.”

“Not as bad as I did.”

“I could have talked you. I was being a jerk.”

“My jerk.”

“Yeah?”

“I love you too, Bucky.” Steve looks up under his golden eyelashes, a smile threatening his, and his too blue eyes overwhelming with the happiness pouring out of them. “I have for a while now.”

Bucky whimpers, his chest tightening and his eyes stinging. He can’t quite seem to breathe properly, air freezing up in his lungs. No one has ever said they loved Bucky Barnes. He never had parents to smother him in affection. His friends love him, but it isn’t something you say anymore, just a fact of life. Steve, though, Steve loves him. This isn’t a one-sided thing, not any more. As easily as Steve can hurt Bucky, Bucky can hurt Steve. Maybe that’s what love is, a relentless power that is as easy to hurt with as it is to live with, but also has the power to comfort and revive, the power to grow and change for the better, the power to take two things and make them one.

Bucky’s always just been just Bucky. He’s never been one half of a whole, being part of that with the right person, will be worth the pain.

Bucky can’t handle the distance any longer. He rushes forward and grabs the front of Steve’s jacket to yank him closer and taste heaven on his tongue. He throws himself into Steve, nearly knocking them off balance. Steve’s arms wrap around his waist and haul him closer, pinning Bucky’s nearly useless left arm between them and nothing else. Bucky is enveloped in warmth, unaware until that moment how cold he has been. A messy and brutal kiss, all teeth and tongues is an odd homecoming, but a homecoming none the less.

Steve is the first to break for air, still close enough that Bucky feel his lips against his cheek, tiny puffs of air that tickle his skin. Bucky smiles, sinking teeth into his bottom lip as if that will keep from the happiness in. “I love you,” he gasps, and feels Steve’s lips echo the same shape.

“I’m not perfect.” Steve sucks a line down Bucky’s cheek to behind his ear making it impossible to think.

“I know that now.”

“I never was.”

“I know.” Bucky pulls Steve back to kiss him again, softly this time, melting against him. “I should have never thought you were anything, but what you are. That was my fault.”

“Forgiven. I’m sorry for the things I said.”

Bucky pulls back, looking Steve square in the eye even though eye contact is hard on him.  This the part that Steve has to understand. “Words hurt, Stevie. I know you didn’t mean any of those things, but they’re all in my head now, and I’m not going to be able to get them to go away. I forgive you, but forgetting is gonna take time.”

Steve nods and cups Bucky’s cheek in one of his big hands. “I get it. I swear. Even if it takes every day for the rest of our lives to make it up to you, I will.”

“Shouldn’t take that long.” Bucky kisses his nose, because he can, because it’s cute, and because it makes Steve smile this big, goofy grin that just has to be kissed...a couple of times. “Also, next time I run, give me space, but then run after me. I like being chased.”

“Deal.”

Kisses turn sweeter. Touches are given freely, losing all track of time and place. Pleasure is, after all, addictive, and they have some time to make up. Their friends find them curled on the floor together the next day. Nat calls them a nauseating couple, Tony teases them non-stop about not bothering to find a bed. Thor celebrates their coupling far too loudly, and Darcy takes perverse joy in debating which of them is bigger. While Angie joins in on Darcy’s game, Peggy’s eyes shine with pride. Bucky and Steve can’t bring themselves to be upset about it. Natasha and Clint win the dueling tournament just a few days later, so they’re not a hot gossip topic for long.

They graduate a month later in a big ceremony under the clear blue sky out on the quidditch field. Bucky flushes with pleasure when he realizes that Steve’s parents are cheering for him as much as Steve. He has to admit, his emerald green robes look as good against Steve’s bright red and Natasha’s look good against Clint’s yellow. When Steve presses his lips against his with a smile, he melts, excitement and happiness thrumming through him. They don’t have much of a plan, but they’ll figure it out...together. They’ve got friends, they’ve got family, and they have each other. What else will they really need?

 


End file.
